Losing Game
by Mrs.Robward
Summary: Sometimes even winners lose. The story of a winner boy and a loser girl. When the game is over, who will walk away defeated?
1. Losing Game

_This began as an entry to the quickie contest, _

_all entries had to be less than 500 words, this was 499. Go ME!_

_I didn't win, but I enjoyed the challenge and I did get many requests to expand it, so... _

_Expect smex, angst, & lots of High School bullsh*t _

_Will be told from both E/BPOV._

_**NO BETA**_

**Disclaimer: **You know it's not mine, but I do want to dedicate this to my angst addicted wifey, beegurl13. She does lover her some angst and I lover her, so it works!

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><p><em><strong>"High school, those are your prime suffering years. You don't get better suffering than that." ~Little Miss Sunshine<strong>_

I scan the cafeteria, knowing she's already there.

Everyone's arranged at their usual table. The band and choir. The nerds and geeks. The jocks and cheerleaders. The goths and emos. And then everyone else who doesn't fit.

I feel her eyes on me. I don't look yet, timing's everything.

I'm a jock. She's a goth.

Those two don't mix. Ever. Like oil and water.

Emmett slaps me on the back shouting, "Those Jackets'r going down!"

The rest of his posse barks,"Roo-roo-roo."

I look up and smile without meaning to. Her eyes are warm as they lock onto mine. I wish she were closer.

Jess sits down, links our arms, and leans into me. Her mouth moves but I don't hear her as my minds buzzes.

This is so wrong. I don't want her to see this anymore. She told me she doesn't like it and I wasn't man enough to promise to change.

I shiver, I know she's shut me out. I feel her cold shoulder all the way from across the room.

I take a chance and look up, she's smiling at Black. The stud in her tongue is rubbing against her top lip. She's pissed. Then I remember what she likes to do with that stud and how it feels as she licks my cock. I want her again already.

His hand rubs up her back and rests on her neck.

I hate it.

She laughs, I can't look away, no matter how much I want to.

They're sitting at her table. She's really no different than me, it's those fucking labels that have segregated us. She just hangs with her friends, who happen to be goths. She said that just because she likes to wear black, it doesn't define who she is.

She claims it's peaceful to be considered a goth. You're left alone. Nothing's expected of you.

Jessica's hand curls around my bicep and trails along my skin. I shrug my arm but she doesn't budge.

I just want this day to be over.

**... *lg* ...**

After practice, she's not at our usual table at the public library.

She's not at our make-out spot at the edge of the forest.

She doesn't come to school the next day.

I can barely function or breathe.

In the locker room, the gossip finally reaches me. It makes my head spin, the bottom of my stomach falls and ricochets around at my feet.

"_One down, a few dozen more to go."_

"_Swan's leaving Seattle. Going to live somewhere upstate with her dad."_

"_Good riddance emo bitch."_

I don't attend practice after I puke all over the floor.

My phone rings at midnight. She whispers goodbye.

"Why?" I ask.

"Because... when games are played, someone always has to lose."


	2. Let the Games Begin

_This chapter was donated to the Fandom Fight Tsunami compilation._

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><p>"<em><strong>I bet in high school, everybody made somebody's life hell." ~Romy and Michele's High School Reunion <strong>_

(_I'm taking you back to the beginning, where it all began.)_

The large room is ice cold and I absolutely hate being cold. I grab my hoodie and slip it on. My ponytail slips. I pull off the rubber band and thread my dark hair through again, pulling it tight.

I guess I should be thankful to be here, even though a whole week of my time will be wasted because somehow I thought it was a good idea to ride Jake's motorcycle down the city sidewalk during the Fourth of July parade.

Although getting caught was not part of my plan.

Now all my points are exhausted on my driving record and my license are suspended. I have to attend traffic school for the entire week to gain my driving privileges back. Then I'm told I'll be on driving probation.

Whatever.

I already called Charlie and thanked him for making the calls that even gave me this option. Even though he's a few hundred miles away, he fixed my mess. He warned me he wouldn't do it again.

Eh, it could be worse.

School starts back in three weeks and the only thing I'm looking forward to is that it's my senior year. Then I can get the hell out of Seattle.

School is not my favorite.

Reading is my favorite. Listening to music is my favorite. Hanging out with my friends is my favorite. Not school, not by a long shot.

I glance at my cell and check the time. There's still five minutes before this gets started.

I am so bored.

I look around at all the adults surrounding me. I wish that Ang or Jake were here. It makes me uncomfortable to be here alone.

I chew on my lip and twirl my ponytail in nervousness.

Then I see him.

Edward Cullen.

I look away avoiding eye contact.

Prick.

I bet he doesn't even know who I am. That's his type. Years ago in elementary school, back when everyone got along and there were no labels, we were friends.

In middle school, the segregation began, and here we are five years later, posing as strangers.

Edward quickly became Mr. Popular-Jock-Cutie-Extraordinaire, along with all this friends who became much of the same. They dated the cheerleaders and ruled the halls. They won all the elections and contests.

And people like me stayed in the shadows and watched them pass us by as if we didn't exist.

"Excuse me," I hear, my head still cast downward. I angle my neck to see his bright white, rather large Adidas next to my seat.

And he's speaking to me.

Really?

I peek up from behind my bangs that are covering my eyes and should have been cut months ago. I blow a quick burst of air to move them out of the way.

"Yeah?" I answer, not pleased. Or impressed. Or believing that after years of ignoring me he thinks it's all right now to speak to me so casually.

"Bella Swan, right?" he asks.

I scoff and bite my tongue before I tell him how I really feel. Instead I just nod my head really fast to confirm that yes, he does know my name.

Surprise, surprise.

"Can I sit here?" He points to the seat to my left. It's empty, but so are the other twenty or so seats around us. I shake my head and throw my hands up giving him free reign to sit anywhere he pleases.

The air around me shifts as he quickly spins and plops down in the seat. Suddenly I smell him and dammit, it's a good thing. Not like the bullshit I imagined he would reek of because he's so full of it.

His long legs stretch out and block the isle. My stomach constricts. For some stupid reason it makes me even more nervous that 'The Edward Cullen' is sitting so close to me.

We aren't supposed to be friends anymore, and not that him sitting beside me makes us friends, but still. We will no doubt at least speak to each other sometime this week, and then what?

I'm sure when school starts back he'll go back to forgetting all about me.

Wait, why should I care?

That's right, I don't care!

It's been how long since this tool has even looked at me? Much less wasted his precious breath to speak to me, I don't need his fake friendship to get me through this week.

He can just sit there, right beside me, in all his popular, perfect, gorgeous glory, and NOT be my friend.

It's best that way.

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><p><strong>Reviews are my favorite! <strong>


	3. Game On

_**"In the end, my girlfriend became my arch enemy, my arch enemy became my best friend,and my best friend became my girlfriend. **_

**_But, hey, it's high_ _school." Sky High_ _~ Will_ _Stronghold_ _(Michael_ _Angarano)_**

The instructor waddles in, all fat & bald. And greasy. The skin on his face and head is so shiny, it's almost blinding.

He asks us to keep it down and then begins his speech in a monotone voice. As he speaks you know he's said this spiel a thousand times before.

You can already hear the snores fill the room. His name is Officer Jenkins. I immediately notice that he does this thing in between his words. It's either a groan or a huff, or maybe mixture of both. It's like it's taking every bit of energy the man has just to talk and stand and breathe at the same time.

It's gross.

I try and concentrate, but it's not the easiest thing to do. I just want to show up and be credited for my attendance, receive that little yellow slip at the end of the week that I can take to the DMV.

Then I get my driving privileges back.

Not to mention my freedom.

I reach around for my ponytail and pull it forward so I can inspect the ends of my hair. Under these fluorescent lights, I notice that my hair really needs to be trimmed. And if I'm going to dye it black again, I should go ahead and do it. Right now some strands have faded back to my natural brown, while others are a dull black.

Ew.

Mr. Fatty says something about a few field trips at the end of the week.

The room erupts in chatter and beside me a hear a grumble. I had forgotten about who was sitting next to me.

I'm so proud of myself.

I glance over at him. Edward has his head thrown back, and his eyes closed. He must be talking to himself because I notice his lips are moving, but I can't hear what he's saying. I glance down and his hands are fisted in his lap, his knuckles white.

I perk up and smile. I even scrunch my nose and wiggle my shoulders. Anything to piss off pretty boy is A-okay in my book.

It's about time he realizes that the real world doesn't revolve around him.

**... *lg* …**

"Here." Edward hands me a stack of papers and I take the bottom sheet and pass them over to the next person in our row.

Stupid papers to fill out. Like they need all this information. Didn't I give them all this when I signed up for this hellhole?

"Hey, Swan."

I freeze.

"Can I borrow your pen?"

I continue to ignore him. Surely he brought something to write with. They don't call it traffic SCHOOL for nothing.

"Hey! Swan!" I feel his breath on the side of my head at the same time his shoulder and arm come in contact with mine.

Either because of irritation or some other emotion I refuse to acknowledge, I slightly shiver. After all, it does feel like a meat locker in here.

I lean away from him as I turn to face him, "Excuse me?" He's so close. I can see the days stubble painting his cheeks and his chin, the different hues of the hairs in his eyebrows, and the slight crooked bump in his nose.

I also notice his breath smells strongly of cinnamon.

My mouth waters just a little.

He looks at me with a bewildered expression and he slowly backs away. His mouth opening and closing a few times before he speaks and then when he does, he stutters a little. "I...I ju-just need a p-p-pen."

Hallelujah to all the angels in glory, Edward Cullen isn't perfect after all.

For whatever reason, he sometimes stutters.

That's so cute, but it an I'm-glad-you're-not-so-perfect-kind of way.

"You need a pen?" I ask with a smile just to rub it in a little.

Ha! He needs something from me.

He slowly nods and narrows his eyes.

Without looking away from him, I lean down and grab my backpack from the floor. I reach in and pull an old pen from the bottom, he's not getting the pen I'm using. No way. He can have my scraps.

I smirk as I hand it over.

He looks down at the pen as he turns it over. His eyebrows raise and he glances up at me, holding the pen up in between us.

It's pink with yellow flip flops printed on it. There's even a flip flop charm that dangles from the tip.

I giggle, but instead it comes out my nose sounding like a snort. "It's all I got." I shrug.

"Thanks, Swan." He answers with a shake of his head and a laugh.

"Um, could you do me a favor?" I lean forward, now invading his space like he did mine not long ago.

He licks his lips as he looks me over.

"Don't call me Swan. Call me Bella, or don't call me at all. 'K?" I relax back into my seat, fully satisfied for setting him straight.

"Sure. No problem. I-I didn't... I didn't n-know," then his mouth shifts into this grin right before he coolly says, "Bella."

I'm fully aware of the way the 'L's roll off his lips. It's just that Edward says my name with such admiration, I flinch.

His demeanor catches me off guard. It makes me feel exposed and like he's putting me back in my place among the unimportant wall flowers.

It pisses me off.

I whip my ponytail around and angle my body away from his.

Ass.

I get back to filling out the stupid papers and ignoring him.

How can I let how he says my name get under my skin? Maybe he didn't mean anything by it, but I don't believe for a second that he was just being nice.

He thinks he's the shit and everyone wants a piece of him. I bet he expects me to be grateful that he even spoke to me and touched my pen.

Forget that. He's wrong. I hate to bust his bubble, but I'm not a member of the Edward Cullen fan club. I could care less if he ever talks to me again.

And he can take my pen and shove it up his ass.

**... *lg* …**

The fat guy up front, whose name I totally forgot, announces that we get a thirty minute break. He says there's a snack room down the hall or a convenience store across the street. He stands up and puts his hands on his hips.

I'm shocked he can still find them.

"I will be taking roll in exactly thirty one minutes. If you are not here when I call your name, you will be counted absent and you might as well sign up for the next class, because you will fail this one. You are dismissed."

Swan, I mean Bella, rushes by me in a blur.

I stand up and her pen falls from my lap to the floor.

I bend over and pick it up to give back to her. Ugly, prissy thing.

I don't have a clue what the hell I ever did to piss her off, but it's crystal clear she doesn't like me. That doesn't set well with me. I always try to keep the peace, I don't make enemies. I'm the guy everyone wants as a friend, because I'm a damn good one if I should say so myself. I'm still friends with every girl I have ever dated and then broke up with.

It's just how I am.

I know that we used to be friends, I think we've even had a few classes together through the years.

I also know that she made me stutter and that hasn't happened in a hell of a long time.

I know that while we've been in here she seemed to be a thousand miles away from me, even though our seats were touching.

I know that something in me feels different just in the past hour or so, and I'm not sure I like it.

I know I want to find her and ask what's her deal and if somewhere along the way I offended her, I will apologize. It's as simple as that.

Then maybe this uneasiness I feel in my chest will go away.

We both will be here all week, might as well keep each other company. Good company too, not the kind with tension so thick it's hard to breathe, because frankly, that's how it's been so far.

I look for Bella in the snack room, I don't see her. I go ahead and buy a Dr. Pepper from the machine and head toward the front door to see if she went across the street.

I toss my gum and open my drink. It doesn't take me long to find her. She's sitting on the curb in front of the building by herself.

I go and sit beside her and I swear I think she huffs and rolls her eyes.

I'm not sure where to start, so I take another swig of my DP. I keep glancing at her though the corner of my eyes.

She's looking at her fingernails as if they are the most interesting thing in the universe.

I blow out a breath and try to start a conversation. "So, um, weren't you in my fr-freshman gym class?" There. That wasn't so difficult.

"Seriously?" She asks as she turns and squints at me. Her hands fall to rest on her legs and I almost want to cower away. "You think Freshman P.E. was the last class we shared? Really?"

I'm not sure if I want to agree with her or not.

"Do we live in the same world? Like, do you walk on the same ground I do, or what?"

I don't say anything.

"Let me enlighten you, Edward Cullen. Not only did we share Freshman P.E., English and History. We have been in AP English together every year since, you even sit in the seat right in front of me Junior year. Sophomore year there was Anatomy, Home Ec. and Spanish." She has her fingers raised and counting them off as she speaks. "Junior year; Chemistry, Art and Spanish."

She shakes her head and I notice that her cheeks are redder than the rest of her face. She's practically out of breath and I think she's about to cry because her eyes are red and teary. I feel like an insensitive fool.

I had no idea.

"Bella, I'm s-s-sorry." I reach out for her arm and she jumps up.

She spins to stand over me. "Don't touch me. You are an egotistical jerk. You are so dense to the world around you. You make me sick. You no longer are my friend, so don't pretend to be. It's better that way."

She reaches down and grabs her bag from the curb. She turns and walks back inside before I can even gather my thoughts and respond.

Her words swirl inside my head.

She's... crazy.

The more I think about it, the more pissed I get.

She's crazy!

She doesn't know me at all.

Hell no!

We are not done. She needs to get the stick out of her ass and open up her damn eyes!

I spill my drink as I scramble up off the curb. I stomp back in to find her and tell her what I think of her obscure view of me.

She doesn't know a damn thing about me.

Screw her.


	4. Rain Delay

_**What separates the winners from the losers is how a person reacts to each new twist of fate. ~ Donald Trump**_

I leave Mr. Perfect Pants gaping at me at the curb. I've never met anyone like him. He's either oblivious to everything around him except his perfect little bubble of a life, or he truly is stupid.

My vote goes to the latter.

Even though, I know he's smart. Maybe he's just book smart?

I don't know.

I enter our classroom and search for a new seat. I prefer not to sit by him again. I find a seat in the back corner and relax into it. I slink down into the chair and let my head fall back resting on the top of the seat. It's not very comfy, but it'll do.

I close my eyes and think about what I'm going to do tonight. It's Monday, so that usually means that my friends and I will go downtown to the Rock 'n' Bowl Bowling Alley. But since I can't drive, that means Jake or Ang will have to come and get me, _I wonder if..._

The air around me shifts and everything suddenly smells of cinnamon.

"Okay. Everyone please have a seat." I straighten up in my chair as the instructor begins to talk. I refuse to look over at him. I know he's sitting right beside me. Somehow, I could just feel his presence, even before I could smell his gum.

The teacher drones on for a few minutes about this pamphlet he's passing out. We are to read it and then answer the questions on the back page and turn it in. _Blah, blah, blah._

Edward's knee is bouncing ninety miles a minute.

I take a chance and peek over at him.

He sharply looks at me, his eyes narrow and he glares. I mean, a really nasty, hateful glare. At me.

Whatever.

I shrug my shoulders at him.

He slowly shakes his head. His jaws tighten and flex, and his masseters pop in the most threatening way.

I have to look away.

Officer Jenkins is in between us handing us both a pamphlet.

I suddenly feel nervous. For once, this battle - against Edward - may be one I'd rather not fight.

I know I won't win. It's pointless. And a waste of my time.

I look down at the paper in my hands and start to read, but the words all run together. I stop and start again. And again.

Again.

I can't get past the first sentence. My mind is all over the place.

I jump in my seat when the door slams.

Officer Jenkins is gone.

The chatter around the room begins again.

"You have no idea what you're talking about," Edward seethes.

I look at him again. He's not looking at me. His pamphlet held up in front of his face.

I already spoke my peace, no need to indulge him and douse more gasoline on the fire.

"Do you really think I'm heartless because I can't name off every person I've ever shared a class with, Bella? That makes me egotistical?" He lowers his head toward me, "Well maybe I think you are a loser... because you can." He raises his eyebrows in a challenge. "You have nothing else better to do than hate on everyone else. Get a life! What do you have to say about that? Huh?"

He harshly leans back in his seat. His eyes never leaving mine. He crosses his arms and waits.

He's waiting on me to retaliate.

But I won't.

His words sting, like tiny venomous strikes of a scorpion. Over and over and over.

The truth is, he just may have a point.

My eyes burn, fine droplets of saltwater gathering in the corners.

I shake my head, willing away the emotions that have just been dumped on me.

I already knew he thought of me a loser, I've seen it every day for years. The way he can look straight through me, as if I'm made of glass.

And I hate to admit it, but the hurt of invisibility stabs every single time.

Knowing that you're not even worth a smile, or a wave, or anything to acknowledge your existence for years and knowing that once upon a time... you were.

For the first time ever, I'm questioning, _which_ _one_ _changed?_

I always thought it was him. Popularity filled him full of himself. Being looked up to and worshiped by his peers made him rise above. Being important lifted him on false clouds and he looked down his nose at the rest of us.

But could it of been because of _me_?

Was it because of others... _like_ _me_? Were we the ones lifting him up? People, _like me_, that were aware of every class that had with _him? _Every move _he_ made? Always aware of _him?_ Did that... did that help make _him_ popular?

Isn't that what popularity is?

I knew of just a few people - like Jake, or Ang, or that bitch Lauren - that through the years I'd shared classes, bus seats, lunch tables, study halls, or bleachers in the gymnasium with. But people like Edward, _everyone_ knew of his classes. His study halls. His bus seats on field trips. Where he'd sit in the lunchroom or during an assembly.

And I always knew of _Edward_ _Cullen. _

I couldn't shake the guilt, it lingered like a bad taste in my mouth.

The guilt that I was just as responsible as placing him on that pedestal as the next person, and for no particular reason at all.

Just for him being _him_.

No reason behind it other than that's what everyone else did.

I had chastised him for what he was, when maybe he was a regular guy that was playing the hand that had been dealt to him.

_Do I_ _blame him?_

Not really but, oh well.

In the end, I know that it doesn't really matter. We both have one year of high school left. Then we will be like lambs set free to roam among the lions. High school social ranking will mean nothing.

We will be on an even playing field.

This game of life will treat us both the same.

But what to do of the year that lies before us?

I'm stupid to think that it will be any different than any other year. I'll still be invisible and he'll still be king of the halls. Two ranks of equals in their own way who were never meant to mesh in the same space.

I think I'd rather stick to my _real_ friends anyway. I'd rather not pretend anything. Being myself comes easy and I want to keep it that way.

**... *lg* …**

I don't know why I care that she's blatantly ignoring me. I didn't mean to be so rude to her earlier, but she really got under my skin.

It doesn't matter, one person's opinion of me doesn't change anything. But I hate the way everything is always assumed when it comes to my life. I never asked for being popular at school. I never wanted followers or... or minions. Yet, I have never let it affect the things I do or the way I think. I still put on my pants one fucking leg at a time, just like everyone else. But people, people like Bella Swan, hate me for no reason at all.

I don't like it.

I may not pay special attention to every single peer at my school. I mean, get real! Yes, I stick to my friends and don't venture out of our circle. I'll admit to a lot of the time, taking the easy way out and doing what's expected of me. Never sticking my neck out when maybe I should have. Never speaking up when a wrong assumption was made.

No more.

If I have to set people straight one person at a time I will, and I'll start with Bella.

This shit ends now.

**... *lg* …**

I call her name as soon as class is dismissed for the day.

She doesn't even pause or look my way.

I have a feeling she's not going to make this easy on me. I don't even know what I'm supposed to say to her, to tell her.

'_Hey, I really don't_ _care_ _what_ _you think_ _about me, but_ _I'm not a_ _bad_ _guy. Please_ _be my friend?'_

Lame.

'_Listen Bella, don't be_ _such_ _a judgmental bitch...'_

Too harsh.

I rush out the door to find her. Again. And just say something. I'm not cool with leaving things this way. I, at least, need to apologize for being so mean.

_Shit._

It's pouring rain. In just the past few hours since lunch, storm clouds have moved in and filled the sky.

I take off in a sprint toward my car.

I still don't see Bella anywhere. I quickly get in the car and shake my hair. Rain splatters all over the interior.

_Wonderful._

I peel off my soaked shirt and wipe off the inside of the door and the dash with the bottom of my shirt. Damn, even my undershirt is wet.

Good thing I'm going straight home until I hear from Emmett and find out where we're going tonight.

I zip out of the parking lot, cursing the rain. I turn my windshield wipers on high and slow down because a wreck is the last thing I need right now.

Then I see her. There's no doubt, it's Bella. She's walking down the street in the rain. I see her flinch when a clap of thunder echoes above us.

I slow down practically to a stop.

I could leave her bitchy self alone in the rain to walk home, or I could follow through with doing the right thing.

Show her that I'm not such a stuck up snob like she thinks I am.

Show her that I can be nice. Be decent.

I roll down the passenger side window, "You need a ride?"

Through the rain I can barely tell she shakes her head. She doesn't even look at me.

"Come on Bella! It's pouring! I'll take you home." I keep the car slowly rolling parallel to the sidewalk as she walks.

She stops dead still finally looking my direction, "No. Thank. You." She turns on her heel and walks a little faster.

_What_ _a_ _stubborn b... _"Goodness gracious, Bella! Your house is on the fucking way! Get in the car!"

She stops walking and looks the opposite way from me. A flash of lightning illuminates everything around us right before a very loud rumble shakes my car.

In an instant she's in my passenger seat.

I try not to be smug.

I take off and we're both silent. The atmosphere in the interior of the car is tense and heavy. The windows are fogging up. I turn on the air to defrost the windshield.

I glance at her through the corner of my eye.

She's drenched. Completely soaked.

I feel bad.

I take a deep breath, '"I'm sorry I'm so rude all the time.."

Still looking out the window she raises her hand dismissing me. "Stop, Edward. You don't have to apologize. I deserved it. Don't worry about it."

I grip the steering wheel tighter. "No. Really. I was mean. I didn't mean it. You're not a loser."

She blows quickly through her nose in a huff and shakes her head. Then she turns her head to face me. I glance from her to the road and back and forth and back and forth...

Her eyes are so… so sad.

And I swallow hard because, for some strange reason, in the eerie light of day from the storm, and the way her eyes sparkle and reflect the rain as it splashes against the windshield, she is... is gorgeous.

In a troubled, gloomy, natural, never noticed it kind of way.

But wow, I really never did notice, _notice her._

And it makes me feel even more guilty for hurting her feelings.

She didn't deserve it.

"Let me make it up to you somehow?" I have no idea what I'm saying.

"No."

She's quick. "Bella, come on."

"No way."

I slow down as we turn onto her street. "Please?"

"Forget it, Edward."

I stop in front of her house. "But-"

"Edward, it's okay that we're not friends anymore. It is what it is. Thank you for the ride home." She reaches for the door handle.

"Wait!" I'm still clueless of what I'm doing.

"Did you hear me? We," she points back and forth between us, "aren't supposed to be friends. Your friends will ride you hard when they find out you gave this," she points to herself, "loser a ride home."

"Who cares what they think?" I scoff because, really, it's the truth, who cares?

She rolls her eyes.

"What about tomorrow, do you have a ride?" I lower my voice and try to ask nicely.

She shakes her head and looks toward her house. "I lost my license, that's why I'm in traffic school."

"I'll pick you up." I look out the glass and the rain is relenting some. I make a mental note to ask her later how she lost her driving privileges.

"No."

"Yes."

"No!"

"Yes! I'll be here at nine. Be waiting." I tap the steering wheel and rock in my seat. Giving her a ride is the least I can do.

She shakes her head again.

"Bella, it's on the way. I live two streets down. It's a done deal."

She continues to disagree.

"I'm going there anyway. Don't be so difficult." I almost sound like I'm begging.

Almost.

"No one will know. I won't say anything." I protest as I throw my hands up in the air. I still don't see what the big deal is. I seriously doubt anyone will care.

She looks straight ahead and seems to think about what I just said.

"Nine?" She asks as she pops the door open.

"Yeah, nine."

"I'll see you then." She opens the door and takes off toward her porch. I watch as she unlocks her front door, opens it, steps inside and then throws up her hand in a small wave.

Only after the door is shut, do I shift the car into drive and slowly pull out from in front of her house.

I swear I think I see her peek out from behind the curtain as I drive away.

And I don't know why that makes me smile the way it does.

* * *

><p><strong>*waves* Thanks a gazillion for reading, things are still being set up.<strong>

**So I wonder what will happen when B goes to the bowling alley? Who else will be there?**

**I'm try to keep this as real as I can, it's been a while since I thought like a teenager, but some of this is based on what happened when I was a senior. Good times.**

**BUT, both of my boys won their state championship title in baseball, so now we get to leave Friday headed toward the TN/MS border for a week of baseball in the World Series. THAT is my vaca. Who knows if I will get to write, but I'm working on things, FLH, S&J, I even signed up for a future Fandom Cancer Fundraiser and will donate an outtake to ADC.**

**Leave me a review, I do so love them.**

**Twitter: Mrs_Robward**


	5. Time Out

A/N: Remember, I don't have this beta'd before I post, but someone, *cough*Rose*cough* will tell me what I need to fix. ;)

Song below: Talk Dirty To Me_ by_ Poison

* * *

><p><em><strong>"Life's not about fitting in; it's about standing out."<strong>_

I make my way to my room, still in some sort of daze.

Why is Edward Cullen being so... so cordial? To me?

It doesn't seem **…**right? I totally expect to look around and see a shitload of his groupies hiding in the bushes only to jump out and laugh at me for believing that he would do anything nice - nice to _me_ that is.

It makes me feel uneasy.

It's safe to say I don't trust that boy a bit, not even a smidge.

**... *****lg***** …**

I sit on the porch steps waiting on Ang and Ben to pick me up. The bowling alley is so much fun on Monday nights. At nine o'clock, they turn off the lights over the lanes and they're illuminated only by black lights. They have numerous disco balls and spinning lights that reflect and dance all over the walls and the floor. The jukebox blasts it's music wide open and every so often a strobe light will start up. It's not the best conditions for bowling, but I'm not a very good bowler anyway.

They pull up and I run out to join them. Leah, Emily, and Seth are mushed in the back seat of Angela's mother's van. Jake is sitting by himself in the middle seat, so I scoot in to sit beside him. I lean over the front seat, kiss my fingers and then touch my fingers to Ang's cheek and then to Ben's. I notice they have their hands linked together, I gag and roll my eyes even though I think they're the cutest couple ever.

They know how I feel about them.

"Hey Jakey!" I turn to high five him. He slaps my hand and then links our fingers. I glance back at Emily and Seth. Even though she's practically sitting in his lap, they seem to be fighting again. I raise my eyebrows at Jake and he slowly shakes his head.

The chemistry between those four res kids is tense. I wish everyone would just go ahead and air their dirty laundry already instead of making us all suffer.

"So Bella, tell us about traffic school. Were you tempted to slit your wrists yet?" Jacob asks as he tugs on the back ends of my hair with his other hand.

"It was, um.. pretty boring, but I survived."

"See anyone you know?" Ang asks with a bob of her head.

"No... no one," I mumble and turn to stare out the window.

I know better than to even whisper the E.C. name because no one in this circle can stand him or his posse. And I know better than to mention that he gave me a ride home or offered to pick me up tomorrow. There's no doubt it will upset Ben and he'll be all quiet and moody for the rest of the night.

I know my friends will lecture me about how I better watch out for him and how I shouldn't even be talking to him.

They'll remind me of all the bad stuff about Edward Cullen and all his friends. And I know that they say it with pure honesty and that they're only looking out for me.

I can take care of myself.

And I already am aware of the fact that Edward and I shouldn't be friends. Or whatever it is that we are.

But... there's something that I just can't put my finger on yet. There's something for me to figure out, I'll just have to keep my defenses on high alert.

Surely, even I can handle that.

**... *****lg***** …**

We stand around and wait until our favorite lane is open, lucky number thirteen. We swap our shoes and store our stuff under our seats. The place is just now starting to fill up, the rock'n bowl starts in less than ten minutes.

Leah grabs my hand, "Let's go find a ball."

I follow her to the far wall and we start sticking our finger in the ball holes and picking them up one by one.

"I swear, I don't care that Emily is my best friend, I can't stand to be around her or Seth when they're together anymore. All they do is argue." Leah picks up a green ball and raises it up and down a few times checking it's weight.

"I know," I see a small neon yellow bowling ball and squat down to try it out. "But, all you Quileute people are thick as thieves. You're a package deal. We can't hang around one of you without getting all the others." My knees pop as I stand back up.

This ball is perfect, so I turn to ask Leah if she's found one yet. When I look up to her face, she's sneering over in the direction of the pool tables.

I follow her daggers, only to see _them__._

My stomach falls, landing somewhere near the center of the earth.

Of all the hangouts, in all of Seattle, _he_ had to walk into mine.

_Why__?_

Thankfully, the lights turn down and the music starts so maybe as we walk by them, they won't even recognize us.

I bet he won't even acknowledge me, and that's a very good thing, because I seriously don't want him to. There's no way that I want to try and explain _that_ to my friends.

I step over to stand in front of Leah, I know she absolutely hates Edward, but I'm not sure exactly why. "Did you find a ball?" I nod my head as I ask her.

She shakes her head and looks his way one more time before grabbing my arm and leading me back to our lane. "I'll just use yours."

**... *****lg***** …**

We quickly march past the pool room in the open space of the bowling alley. They always keep the lights on back there and I can't help by glance toward Edward and his clan.

He doesn't look up.

I'm relieved.

But I'm also frustrated.

So typical.

And disappointing.

I'm so stupid.

I see a few of his friends notice me, or maybe they notice Leah's evil stare. Either way, something is said and I know all heads are going to turn toward us real soon.

I can't help but quicken my pace and give them a show.

_Assholes__. _

"Come on sweet cheeks!" I smack her on the ass and take off running toward our friends.

My friends. The _real_ ones.

The whole time, I feel his stare.

On me.

It burns.

And not necessarily in a bad way either.

It's full of heat and energy.

It gives me power. Authority.

Guts.

Whatever it fuels, it sure isn't enough to keep me away from the fire.

**... *****lg***** …**

The music is so loud, I can feel it in my ribs. The bass tickles my ears, vibrates my teeth.

I love it.

It's practically impossible to chat and have a normal conversation. You have to scream and talk slow and hope that whomever you are talking to can read lips.

I love it.

Jacob's older brother and the cities resident delinquent, Quil Black so generously passes around his flask. He steps outside to refill it and then brings us more to sip.

I love it.

We bowl and laugh and drink and stumble and giggle and snort and drop balls and miss pins.

This is our Monday night.

I love it.

The vodka ignites my insides at the same time that it lulls my racing mind.

It's perfect.

I love it.

I steal quarters from everyone and stumble to the jukebox. I wanna sing and dance and not care about anything... but having a good time.

First, I make a pit stop in the little girls room.

The door slams while I'm finishing up.

The voices I recognize, but loathe.

"I wonder what Edward's deal is? He seems distracted tonight."

That's Jessica Stanley. _Gag__. _

She puts the 'low' in follower.

"Oh, shut up Jess. Just because he seems uninterested doesn't mean he's distracted. He's probably just bored. Of you."

That's Rosalie Whitlock. The epitome of mean girls everywhere. Too bad she knows how perfect she is.

"Yeah, you can only suck and swallow so many times before he's ready to move on, hon."

That's Tanya Rider. Beautiful, quiet, popular, but... different than the rest.

"Shut up you two. It's not like that."

"Okay, Jessica. Do us all a favor and find someone new to seduce." Rosalie says with disgust.

I step out of my stall and squeeze in between Tanya and the wall to the sink.

"Oh, look. It's the ugly duckling." Rosalie says as she stops with her hand on the door handle.

"What's wrong, Rosalie? Did you forget how to open the door?" I mock, hoping she will just drop it and leave.

"I'm sorry, I meant Bella Swan. It's understandable how I could get those two confused, right?"

Jessica laughs.

Tanya rolls her eyes and walks past Rosalie to pull open the door.

I follow her lead.

I stop and turn to face Bitchalie, I just can't not say_ something._

I sneer and let my eyes travel down to her manicured, perfect pink toes, then slowly back up to her just-the-right-sized boobs. "Really Rosalie, you shouldn't do vicious and nasty, it makes you look... fat."

As I walk off she says something else. To me or about me.

No doubt, it's a low blow or an ugly comment.

All I can do is grin and hope she chews on my words all night long.

I need another drink.

**... *****lg***** …**

It takes forever, but as soon as my song starts, I steal the long black comb from Quil's back pocket. Someone should tell him the slick-back hair look died a long, long time ago.

I jump up on the seats of our lane and I sing out loud with the music.

This is how we karaoke. Even though it's more like lip syncing because the music is so, so loud there's no way anyone can actually hear our voices.

But it's so much fun.

So. Much. Fun.

And as I sing, I find myself looking toward him. At him.

Even when I don't mean to.

"_You__ know __I __never_

_I __never__ seen __you __look __so __good_

_You __never __act __the __way __you __should_

_But __I __like __it__.."_

The words aren't meant for him.

I mean, I don't think they are. I don't sing for anyone but myself, and especially not Edward Cullen.

"_I __know __I__ never_

_I __never__ ever __stay__ out__ late_

_You __know __that __I __can__ hardly__ wait_

_Just __to__ see __you_

_And __I __know__ you __can not __wait_

_Wait __to __see __me __too..__"_

This is classic. This is fun. This is rock n'roll. Or rock n'bowl. Whatever.

My vision is fuzzy. The room wobbles like a toy top about to stop it's spin and tumble over.

I close my eyes and toss my hair. I swivel my hips just a little, not too much. Anymore than that and my makeshift stage might not hold.

The swirl in my belly is a good thing. It makes me feel invincible.

I have the slightest idea if him or his crew are watching me.

If they even care that I'm acting a fool.

I don't care either way.

Leah and Angela climb up on the seats with me, we scrunch up together and share the comb-microphone. We throw our arms around each other.

We live as teenage girls do.

We finish our song strong.

The next song starts and I want to sing some more.

Instead, Jake backs up to me, "Get on girl before you get us banned."

I fall on his back. He hoists me up and then pretends he's about to drop me.

I scream.

He tightens his hold on the back on my knees.

I squeeze around his throat a little tighter than I need to.

Jacob walks and I close my eyes and rest my cheek against the back of his head. I can smell all the products he uses to style his hair.

I croon my head around to rag him about laying off the gel, when the air around me shifts and thickens.

I deeply inhale the cinnamon.

_Mmmmmm__._

I can't help but look.

It doesn't take me long to find the source.

His arm is thrown around Tanya Rider's shoulder. His face buried in her hair, his lips obviously spilling secrets into her ear.

Jake releases his grip on my knees and I slide down his back, willing my feet to find the floor.

Then Tanya looks toward me, her smile sinister and deceiving. She licks her lips before they pucker in the slightest way.

She nods her head slowly.

"Hand me your bowling shoes, Axel." Jacob demands.

"Come on! It was Bret Micheals, get it right." I steady myself with one hand on his shoulder as I slip my shoes off and place them on the counter.

We head back over toward our lane and I can't stop myself from looking one ...more... time.

His arm is gone from her shoulder. His lips gone from her ear.

Their stance is cool and casual.

Just as he does any other day, he regards me as glass as he looks straight through me.

_Stupid __prick__. I am so not riding with him anywhere.  
><em>

But Tanya on the other hand, watches me like a hawk.

Her eyes lock with mine, the distance between our pupils fills with some unknown energy and an uncomfortable static.

Her lips curl, just on the corners.

And as if this day couldn't get any weirder, she winks, slow and seductive.

At me.

_Welcome to the twilight zone, Bella Swan, you've lost your damn mind._

* * *

><p><strong>So much building...<strong>

**EPOV next. You HAVE to know what was said at the pool tables!**


	6. Switch Hitter

_(that R rating, it's kicking in. Don't read if you shouldn't.)_

* * *

><p><em><strong>"High school is a lot like prison: Bad food, high fences; the sex you want, you ain't gettin, the sex you gettin, you don't want. "<strong>_

"So, Edwardo, did you get you some strange at traffic school today?" Emmett asks with a sly grin as soon as I sit down in the passenger seat of his Hummer.

"No, man. Sorry to disappoint." I know better than to tell him anything. This punk gossips worse than any girl I've ever met.

"What the hell? Are you losing your touch Cullen?" He laughs at himself.

"It isn't always about sex, dude."

"Psht, whatever. You know Rose has me by the balls, so I have to live my single man fantasies though you. Come on!" Emmett pulls up in front of Rosalie's house and honks his horn.

She walks out with Tanya Rider and Jessica Stanley at her side. I try to not let my aggravation show, but Emmett notices it anyway.

"What is it Ed? Stanley wore out her welcome?" He wags his eyebrows then slaps me in the chest.

I nod, "Months ago. She doesn't take a hint." It's the truth. No matter how much I ignore her, how many times I'm rude to her, even after I tell her to back off, she practically begs to suck my dick. I don't get it.

And truthfully, I'm to the point, I'd rather use my hand.

"No shit, Sherlock. Too bad Rider swings the other way, huh? I bet she's a wild lay." Emmett gestures toward Tanya.

I smile thinking about it.

Tanya's a cool chick. She's doesn't put up with Rosalie's mouth. She's loud and fun when we party, but quiet and smart in school. She got a hot body, long legs, and nice hair, her tits are a little too big for my liking, but there's no doubt she's a looker.

And a total lesbian.

She doesn't flaunt the fact, I'm sure she's never had a serious girlfriend at school, but I've seen her take many a female to a private room during a party.

"So where are we going?" I ask as the girls open the back door and climb in.

I feel Jessica's fingers trail along the back of my neck as she climbs in. I quickly lean forward to avoid her touch and pretend to tie my shoe.

"The Cue Stick," Emmett says as soon as he detaches his lips from Rose's face. "I feel like kicking a little ass at the pool hall tonight. I've been working on my bank shots."

He revs the gas and pulls away from the curb.

"You know Cullen, the gentlemanly thing to do, would be to let the driver's girlfriend have the front seat next to her man." Rosalie sneers from the back seat, even the tone of her voice is mean and rude.

"Noted," I dismiss her request. "I guess that means I'm not a gentleman then, huh?"

"Such an asshole." She mumbles under her breath and I have to smile. I love to piss her off, but there is no way in hell I'm sitting back there with Deep Throat Stanley. I am so done with that.

**... *****lg***** …**

"Well fuck a duck." Emmett climbs back in the front seat and slams his door. "The sign says they are closed because of a water leak. Now what?"

"Wonderful." Rose sighs.

"You wanna try out that bowling place down on Third? They got pool tables." Emmett asks as he starts up his H3 again.

"I don't care. Whatever." I answer as I buckle my seat belt.

"Just drive Em, Jess text Mike and tell him there's been a change of plans." Always in charge. I don't see how Emmett stands her.

**... *****lg***** …**

The place isn't bad, kind of crowded, but it'll do.

We pay for and set up at the last empty table in the pool room. Newton, Yorkie, and Whitlock are already there.

As we search the walls for a decent cue stick, Lauren Mallory and Victoria Battles join us.

I can't help but block out all the unnecessary chatter between them all. These chicks are getting on my last nerve and I'm not even sure why.

"What's up, Ed?" Jasper drawls as he shakes my hand.

I shake my head, "Not a lot man. You?"

"I have to admit, I'm kind of glad for the change of scenery," He says as he looks around. "Can't really say the same for the company though." He looks toward the females huddled in the corner.

"I agree." I pick up the chalk and dust the end of my cue. I break and Em, Jasper, Newton, and I start a game of partner stripes and solids.

We go a few rounds and then Emmett stands up straight and puffs out his chest.

Sometimes I just don't understand him.

"Well, well. Look-y here. Now we know where all the misfits hang on Monday nights." He sways back and forth. I look in the direction of his stare.

Jacob and Quil Black, Ben Cheney, Angela Webber, Leah Clearwater, Seth Stewart, and a few others are standing around a bowling lane.

"Fucking rejects." Rosalie announces as she slides her arm around Emmett's waste.

I stand quiet and watch how Rose and Em and Jess and the other's begin to crowd around each other and throw insults and put-downs toward the pack over there.

And it's all so … so juvenile. They have no cause or motivation to say the things they do and I know they do this kind of shit all the time, I just have never cared to really listen to what they say. Now I wonder if this is always how they are? Even when I'm not around? I know how mean and nasty they can be, not having any filters about what they say.

But what in the hell is their reasoning? I don't get it. I back up and go stand near Whitlock and Rider away from the others.

Jasper raises his eyebrows as he smiles at Tanya. He then looks back out toward the lanes as his smile grows. I start to search out their amusement at the same time I hear a familiar voice, "Come on sweet cheeks!"

My head snaps up as I see her running in the direction of the lanes, it's Bella.

Leah's eyes are squinted and she's showing the whole bowling alley just how much she hates my guts.

_Shit__. _

"Edward," Emmett mocks, "a few more members of the Cullen-Dick-Sucking-Club have showed up. Don't **you** feel the love tonight."

His voice is really loud and it gets underneath my skin.

But I don't look away as I watch the way her dark hair swings as she runs. She's wearing it down tonight, no ponytail like earlier.

She runs up and almost falls as she steps up on the slick floor of the lanes to place her bowling ball in the return.

Quil Black puts his arm around her shoulder, she pushes him away laughing. She then grabs the silver flat flask out of his hand and turns it up to drink.

Jacob takes it away from her and kisses her on the cheek, she pushes him off too. He takes a drink and then gives it back to his brother.

A new song starts up and all of them start dancing. I can hear their laughter all the way over here, even over the loud music.

They are fun to watch, I find myself sometimes grinning at the silly way Bella tries to dance. It's like they just let loose and have fun.

I glance around at my friends. The girls keep looking toward the mirror on the back wall, fixing their hair, reapplying their lip stick, pulling at the hem of their too short shorts.

Then Emmett and Newton and Yorkie, they just stand there, stiff and... serious. Shoulder's wide, eyes narrowed, always looking around assessing the situation - as if everyone here wants to challenge them.

Then I look back at Bella and her friends, they really are having a good time, it shows.

I can see where she came up with her assumption of me. If I hang with these people all the time, I'm sure she thinks I'm just like them. Why wouldn't she?

**... *****lg***** …**

Rosalie, Tanya, and Jessica return from the bathroom. Rose's face is red and her lips are puckered out. I'd know that look anywhere, she's pissed about something.

She walks up to Emmett and I turn and walk the other direction.

I don't want to hear it - hear _her_.

Tanya is standing by herself, her back propped up against the back wall. Her tongue keeps slinking out and wetting her lips, and she has this sly smile on her face.

"Who ate the canary?" I ask as I pick up my drink.

"What do you know about her?" She nods her head toward the lanes, I internally groan, I already know who she's talking about.

But I ask anyway, "Which one?"

"Bel-la Ssswan." I swear the vibe I'm getting from Tanya is pure lust. _Could __she __actually __want__..._

I swallow hard not knowing if I really want to know the answer or not, "Not much, why?"

"She just told Rose in the bathroom she was getting fat. I think I love her." Tanya says with a smile. "Or I at least... want her."

"She did what?" I giggle. "She told off Rosalie? Ah man, I wish I'd seen that... Wait, why did she tell off Rose?"

I'm a little upset at the thought of her needing a reason to.

"Rosalie said she was ugly or something. Doesn't matter. I. Want." Tanya licks her teeth. I start to get a little hard thinking about Bella and Tanya getting it on.

Tanya pushes off the wall, walks past me, and leaves the pool room.

I bet she's going to snoop.

I wonder if Bella is into _that_?

**... *****lg***** …**

I hang up my cue stick and sit on a stool. I strategically put my seat where it seems as though I'm watching them play pool, but really I'm watching the bowling lanes. I stick a piece of gum in my mouth and keep to myself.

No harm, no foul.

"I wouldn't mind waxing that ass." Mike says as he rotates his hand in a circle and thrusts his pelvis a couple time.

I'm immediately on guard, "Who?"

He points in the direction of Bella and her friends.

Then I realize I don't want to give anything away. These guys can be pretty ruthless if they ever think they got something on you. I'm not in the mood. I should quit staring at her. I shift on my stool and turn slightly facing the other direction.

Just then another song starts up. A few people hoop and holler. Mike elbows me, "Her. The one dancing on the chairs."

I turn and look, I figured he was talking about her too. Damn girl's a magnet.

She's up on top of the seats singing along with Poison. I realize Mike is still talking about her, to me. Something about her lips, his cock, I don't know.

I just watch her.

She's looking my way, our way. I'm not sure if she's looking directly at me, but for reasons I'm not sure of, I hope she is.

It's hot.

Watching her, _is __hot__. _

I can definitely see the appeal my friends speak of.

She flips her hair around.

Sexy.

She moves her hips in such a way it makes you wonder ...things.

Newton is still talking. I shake my head to stop the thoughts of her.

"I wonder what McCarty would think?" He asks.

I clear my throat, "About what?"

"What would he think of me if I slummed it to get a piece of that?"

I freeze.

I'm a little ticked.

And confused.

"You think Bella Swan is slumming it?" I. Am. Floored.

"Hell yeah. I mean - shit. Look at what happened to Cheney. I'm not doing that!" I look toward Ben and see him with his arm thrown around some girl, Angela, I think her name is. She proceeds to climb up to stand beside Bella and sing into her... comb?

I want to ask what happened to Ben, because I don't think I've ever heard the whole story, but as soon as I start to ask Mike grumbles. "Ah man! Forget that. It probably wasn't worth it anyway. Looks like she's already taken."

I see her riding on the back of Jacob Black and he's carrying her toward the front.

"No way she'd be worth the shit storm." Mike huffs as he walks off.

I start to walk toward her, that whole magnet thing, I believe it. Her presence just pulls you toward her.

As I get closer, I notice she has this goofy grin on her face. Her eyes are closed and she has her cheek laying against the back of Black's head.

He gives me a dirty look and I pass them by knowing that now, is not a good time.

Tanya is standing there, still watching Bella.

I throw my arm around her shoulder and lean in to whisper into her ear. "I bet your panties are wet just thinking about her, aren't they?"

Tanya slowly nods.

"I'd give my left nut to watch you eat her out. That shit would be hot as hell."

Tanya hums.

I told you, Tanya's cool like that.

"I have connections, I'll see what I can find out about her." I say and then drop my arm and stand up straight. I really don't plan on hooking the two of them up, but it will give me a chance to ask Bella about her... status.

Bella turns her head toward us as she walks by. I pretend to not even notice that she's there. I don't wave. I don't smile. I just.. be.

I can't wait until in the morning.

Just then I see Tanya wink out the corner of my eye and the blank look on Bella's face tells me all I need to know.

She's **not** into _that__._

* * *

><p><em>I'm trying to do that thing where I don't bombard you with author notes &amp; stuff. It's really hard! I just wanna say ...stuff, but I think it's cool when authors DON'T say anything after a chapter and so I thought I want to try that. <em>

_Dang._

**_I can't do it. _**

_I know it seems like this fic is going slow. The plot is pissing me off too, but this is how it has to happen. _

**_See, I can't NOT say something. _**

_Review?_

_~Stacy_

_p.s. Final chapter of FLH is coming really soon, I'm already 5k words in...  
><em>


	7. Change of Plan

_It's Tuesday at traffic school. Let's see if this day goes better for these two crazy kids. Remember, it's not beta'd but I will read over it & change it 100xs if I see something wrong._

* * *

><p><em><strong>When I was four years old they tried to test my IQ, they showed me this picture of three oranges and a pear. <strong>_

_**They asked me which one is different and does not belong, they taught me different was wrong. ~Ani Difranco**_

I pull up to Bella's house earlier than what I needed to. I put the car in park & wait in the drive for her to come out. I'm hesitant to honk or anything, maybe her parents are still in the bed.

There's a silver Volvo, a red convertible BMW, and a black four door Dodge truck parked in her driveway.

All high end vehicles.

My Infiniti G35 coupe is no clunker, but I know a nice ride when I see one. I wonder what her parents do for a living?

I glance over at the clock, it's eight thirty, traffic school starts at nine. She needs to hurry.

Ten minutes later and my patience is wearing thin. If I don't leave within the next five minutes, I'll be late. I'm cutting it close as it is.

I get out, and slam my door harder than I need to hoping that it will alert my presence. I walk around my car pretending to be looking it over. I decide to approach her front door and do so as if I'm walking toward my execution. I push the doorbell and inside the faint bell echoes throughout the house. I lift my wrist, look down at my watch, and curse the time. I have to leave right now or I will be counted absent.

_Shit__!_

I scramble back out to my car and turn the key. A loud screech comes from underneath the hood because the fuckers all ready running.

I down shift into drive and peel out of her driveway hoping that I left black marks in my haste.

**... *lg* ...**

I run into the room just as Officer Jenks is sitting down to call role.

Bella ignores me as I slide into the empty seat to her right. I see her stiffen and turn away to face more towards her left.

She is the most aggravating, ludicrous, stubborn thing I've ever had to deal with.

After roll call is done, Officer Jenks begins to drone about the movie we will be watching today about car crashes and how to avoid them.

I could care less.

I lean over closer to her ear, the scent of her hair sweet in my face even as the anger pulses through my veins. "What the hell, Swan?" I say through gritted teeth.

"I told you not to call me Swan," she practically spits each word.

"What the fuck ever, Bel-la. You were supposed to ride with me today."

She shakes her head.

The lights turn down and Jenks pulls down the screen in the front of the room before he walks toward the back to start the projector.

As soon as the introduction of the movie starts, Bella whips her head around to glare at me. "Are you serious, Edward? You didn't even acknowledge me last night at the bowling alley and then today I'm just supposed to ride with you like you're my BFF? I don't think so." She crosses her arms in defiance.

Part of me wants to grin because her anger is kind of cute, but right now, I'm a little too pissed to enjoy it. "Oh, that's how you wanna play it? Well I do recall Princess, that you didn't speak to me either. Don't push all this on me. It goes both ways."

"You're right," she huffs and looks like she wants to say something more, but she doesn't.

"I went by your house and waited," I admit, my tone a little lighter.

"It's for the best," she sighs, her voice lighter too.

We don't speak for awhile; even though there are a million things I want to say.

Eventually, I can't keep my mouth shut any longer. I lean over toward her again, but keep my eyes trained ahead on the movie. "What do you mean?"

She slightly leans toward me, not making eye contact either. "I don't know what you're talking about," she answers. I see her twist her hair in between her fingers out of my periphery.

I scoot my chair closer to her's. "You said it's for the best." I finally turn to face her, "What does that mean?"

She looks over at me, confusion all over her face. She shakes her head, "I can't believe this," she says with aggravation. "Can we wait until lunch?" Her eyebrows raise as she asks. I watch as her eyes pour over my features, pausing on my lips before darting up to eyes and then back down again.

I feel like she's trying to look deeper into me than what I'm showing on the surface. It makes me uncomfortable, so I quickly answer her, "Yeah, sure. Fine, lunch." I slowly nod.

But it seems to be just as difficult for me to tear my eyes away from her. I watch as her eyelashes flutter. Her lips fall open and the silver ball in her tongue taps against her incisor. _How__ did __I__ miss __that__ before__? _Soon enough, or maybe too soon, her pupils look to the floor and she turns her head back toward the front.

I can't ignore the strange crackle in the air around us. I raise my arm to see if my hair is standing on end. It's not… but the intensity is palpable.

I see Bella shiver and wrap her arms around herself.

I don't stop my crooked grin that emerges knowing that she feels it too.

**... *lg* ...**

I follow her to the snack room and dig around in my pockets for change for a Dr. Pepper. I toss my gum and twist open the bottle. I refrain from chugging the whole thing in one swallow.

I pull out a chair and sit beside her. She's pulling food out of her backpack.

My stomach grumbles, but I ignore it. I don't have any more cash on me and I'd rather talk to her than leave to get something to eat.

"You want some?" She offers.

I shake my head.

She tears her sandwich in two and lays the big half on a napkin in front of me. "It's homemade pimento cheese. Try it." She takes a bite of her's and nods for me to do the same.

I devour it in three bites. I pick up the napkin and wipe my mouth. "Did you make it?" I finish off my drink. "That was good."

She nods, "Yeah, I did. Tomorrow I'll bring you a whole one." There's a hint of humor in her voice which is much better than the irritation from earlier.

I genuinely smile. Maybe she's not such a bitch after all.

_But__ wait__..._

"So explain." I lean back in my chair and cross my arms. This has got to be good.

"Explain what, Edward?" Just like that, her annoyance is back.

"Tell me why you said not riding with me was for the best. I don't get it."

"Seriously?" she huffs.

"Hell yeah. I mean it's just a ride." I honestly answer.

"Okay, I'll explain this the best I can. You are Edward Cullen. You are the senior quarterback," she lifts her hand and counts off her fingers as she talks. "You are the captain of the basketball team, I think you play shortstop for the baseball team, and I don't even know what else. You'll be one of the top runners for valedictorian and if you run for class president, you'll win. Need I go on?"

I shake my head, personally, I don't want to hear all this crap.

"To put it in a nut shell, you are **one**, if not **the****, **most popular guy in school. You could practically have any girl you want and I'm sure guys would fall at your feet just to hang with you. Do you see where I'm going with this?" She rests her elbows on the table and throws her palms up.

"Not really. I don't look at myself the same way you do obviously. But I still don't get why you can't catch a ride with me. What's the harm in it?"

She taps the barbell in her tongue against her teeth again. "Edward, come on. It just isn't that simple. You're Edward Cullen, I'm Bella Swan. We just don't run in the same circles anymore. It's not ...acceptable for us to ride together."

I swallow hard because, I'm offended. Or pissed. Or something along those lines. "Tha-a-a-," I stop and take a deep breath, damn stutters. "Thaaat's the dumbest thing I've ever heard." I say with more venom than I mean to.

"Earth to Edward. What the hell? I know you've attended Northwestern High for the past three years along with the other two thousand people at our school, have you not noticed anything?" Her voice rises again.

"Like what?" I shrug.

"How people just.. just keep to their own. High school doesn't get more segregated than it is at our school. It's everywhere, the halls, the classrooms, the parking lot, the lunch room...everywhere. There's no way you haven't noticed, the cliques at Northwestern..." She trails off and shakes her head.

Again, I feel guilty for no apparent reason at all.

"Yeah, I've noticed-but you got to understand, I distance myself from all that bullshit. I just kind of show up, and my friends are there and I go about my day. It's never been a popularity contest for me. I could care less. I've never really thought much about it."

She rolls her eyes, "Well, obviously, you've never tried to go against the grain either."

"No, I haven't but still.." I lean forward, not sure what to say.

"I recommend you don't. Just keep things easy Edward. Don't push this," she waves her hands around between us, "superficial thing between us. It'll never work."

I'm sure there is one thing she doesn't know about me...

I hate to be told _not_ to do something and there _is_ a reason that rarely happens.

"Bella," I pause to carefully calculate my words. "There isn't any reason, while we're here, that we can't be friends." I look around at our company, "I don't think any of these old farts care about what we do, and I... I won't say anything to anyone outside of this."

And I mean it. What do I have to lose?

She contemplates what I've said, I can practically see her wheels spinning. Debating. Weighing it all out.

She hesitates, "Okay, but I won't tell either. I just don't.. I don't want the drama that us being friends could stir up. I hate confrontation."

Good, it's a start. "Wait a minute, then why did you confront Rosalie last night?" I wonder aloud.

"You heard about that?" Her cheeks stain pink and she huffs again.

"Yeah, I hear... a lot." I smile.

"That bitch deserved it. I can't stand her, and I'm sorry... I know that all her friends are your friends, but I'd rather sleep in a den of angry cobras than share air with those girls. They are so mean." Bella looks ashamed of what she just admitted to me, but I can't help but agree with her.

"Hey," I bump my elbow against her's, "they're not my friends. Just in the same social circle, remember? And most definitely, not by my choice."

"You should find a new circle." Her eyes grow big and she tries to hide her smile.

"Agreed. So tell me, if I hang with all the popular kids," I say with air quotes, "what's the class of your clan?"

She snorts through her noise, "That's easy. Everyone calls us the 'goths' which is really bizarre. The first time I heard that expression, I seriously looked it up because I didn't see myself as such. But after I read the definition, it was spot on for me and my friends. The stupid thing is, the only reason we were labeled that, was because a lot of the time we dressed different. A few dyed their hair black, we painted our fingernails black, and wore fake skull tattoos. It started as a kind of like a joke, but it stuck and we didn't fight it. People think my friends and I are freaks but, for the most part, they leave us alone. It works."

Even as she tells me all this, I can discern the sadness in her voice. It's as those she's said those words to herself so many times, she almost believes it. But I think that maybe she doesn't like her label. Probably in the same way I'm not too crazy about mine.

"My friends are genuine," she adds. "They definitely aren't rude to others just because they're bored."

I nod in agreement, but I'm not responsible for the actions of my friends. It is what it is.

Then I remember something I was going to ask her. "Hey, can you tell me what happened to Ben Cheney? Newton mentioned it last night and I don't think I ever heard the whole story."

Hey eyes narrow and her nostrils flare. She abruptly jumps up out of her seat and starts cleaning up our table. "It's time to go back."

I throw my stuff away and chase after her, _again__._

"Wait! I take that as a no, you won't tell me?" She sits down in her seat and I watch as she chews on her bottom lip.

I slide into my seat beside her.

"How about this, you ask Emmett McCarty. He's your buddy, right? You ask him first what happened to Ben, then come to me, and I'll tell you what _really_ happened." Her face softens some, but not much_. __I__ swear __I __don__'__t__ get __this __girl__._

"All right, I'll ask McCarty first." Immediately my mind begins to spin with theories.

**... *lg* ...**

Bella's quiet on the way toward her house while I debate with myself how to bring up the guy on her back/Tanya thing.

"Ssss-So lasst night? Was that your b-b-boyfriend?" There. That wasn't so hard, this stuttering shit has got to stop though.

"What? Who?" She looks at me like I'm crazy.

"I, I think his name's Jake Black." I say with doubt.

Her shoulders fall and she breathes a sigh of-what is no doubt-relief, "Jacob? No. Not my boyfriend. Definitely not." She giggles to herself.

"Ex?" I question, I'm not sure what's so funny.

"No, Jacob Black has never been my boyfriend, never will be. He's more like a brother, I guess. He's really just a good friend."

"Is there a boyfriend?" I feel like I have to ask.

She whispers a faint 'no' and I feel… relieved? But my first thought is 'what a damn shame.'

The mood around us seems to ease, it's nice.

"What about you? Which... Who's your girlfriend?" she picks at the hem of her shirt as she asks.

Her question catches me off guard, I didn't expect it from her.

"I don't... I don't do the girlfriend thing." It sounds worse than it is, but it's the truth.

"Right," she slightly rocks in her seat. "So your reputation, that's... all true then?"

_What __the__?_

How does she make me feel so guilty and ashamed all the damn time for doing absolutely nothing?

"I don't know about that. I wouldn't believe _everything_ you hear." I'm nervous as I say it. There's no telling what she's heard and for the most part, it's probably true.

"Whatever." She sounds disappointed..._in __me__?_

We ride in silence, the only sound is the mild roar of my tires against the road. I'm startled when she speaks again.

"So last night, you were with Tanya?" She's not looking at me, she's looking out the window.

"No, no more than you were with Black." I state with all honesty.

She forms an 'O' with her mouth.

I just have to throw her a little bait. "Let's just say Tanya's last name fits her... perfectly."

I watch as she repeats Tanya's last name in her head. I can see her mouthing, 'Rider, Ri-der, Ri..' and then it clicks.

"Holy shit! Really? I didn't know. She's into... girls?" Bella's mouth breaks out into a wide grin and I swear it gets warmer in this car.

And I can't help but add, "Especially brunettes."

"Watch it, Cullen. Not my style." She shakes her head and looks away embarrassed.

We both laugh, I like it.

If she only knew how serious I am.

**... *lg* ...**

I put the car in park and hope Bella doesn't care about the very present black marks on her driveway.

"Thanks for the ride, Edward." She grabs her bag and pulls the strap up over her shoulder.

"So you'll wait on me in the morning?" I flick at my keys as they dangle from the ignition.

"I'll wait."

"Any big plans tonight?" I ask just to make conversation and because I kind of want to know.

"It's movie night at Westside Park. It's free and.. outside. We usually go if it doesn't rain."

I think about how fun and relaxing that sounds and how lame my posse would think it is.

I frown.

"What about you?" She grabs at the door latch.

"No plans." I answer and blow out a breath.

"Well, I'll see you in the morning." She pops the latch, gets out, and gently shuts the door. She lifts one hand, and wiggles her fingers in a small wave.

I throw my hand up and wave back.

And ignore the want to _not_ leave.

To go watch a movie in the park.

To wonder if it would really be that bad if we were friends.

I look in my rear view mirror one last time before I turn off her street.

Her driveway is now empty.

And I'm already anxious for tomorrow.

* * *

><p><strong>URBAN DICTIONARY definition of GOTH<strong>: Someone who likes the darker side of things. They usually listen to death metal and goth music, such as Dismember and Bauhaus. Marilyn Manson is NOT goth. He's just...weird. Real goths are not depressing and suicidal like the posers you see at Hot Topic. Goths are fun to be around and aren't afraid to laugh at themselves every so often. They don't worship Satan and aren't evil despite what some ignorant people might say. Goths don't all dress alike either. They like to create their own unique style. Goths are also very intelligent and creative. A lot of them are writers and artists. Goths DON'T envy the popular people. They are what they are because it makes them happy. Goths would rather stay who they are and be among the so called "freaks" than be like everyone else and be popular. They understand that there are more important things in life than popularity, and usually succeed in life while the popular ones don't become much of anything.

If someone becomes "goth" because they couldn't get any friends or are depressed and angry all the time, they are most likely a poser

* * *

><p><em>Most of that definition is Bella and her friends, I wanted you to be able to picture them in your head. More will come out as the fic goes on. <em>

_I loved that no one hated on me for Tanya. I am sick of her always chasing Edward & being the villain (I even do it in my other fics). I plan to pop a few more things on you before this ride is done. I hope to update with a smaller chapter by the end of the week. _

_I still have last ch reviews sitting in my inbox waiting for me to reply. I'm always behind. _

_XoXo_

_~Stacy_


	8. Rumble

_**"What is popular is not always right. What is right is not always popular."**_

This can't be my life.

Oh shit! I'm stuck in another girl's body! It's just like that Freaky Friday movie! Somehow when I woke up this morning, I was switched to live in someone else's body!

Wait a minute, never mind. That movie was when Lindsey Lohan traded places with her mom.

Ew.

Thank goodness that didn't happen!

But this can't be my life.

I, Bella Swan, am talking to and riding with _the_ Edward Cullen on a daily basis. He's actually nice to me, and he's almost a decent guy, like he used to be when we were younger.

Almost.

Except for last night at the bowling alley when he ignored me.

And today, when he called me out for ignoring him. He really pissed me off, but I couldn't argue, because he was right. I did, I looked right through him - now, at least, he knows how it feels.

Like he cares.

Or like it matters.

I just hope he realizes why I choose not to talk to him in a very public places surrounded by so many of our peers.

It's not because I'm a snob, or too good to talk to him, or anything like that.

I'm not.

And it's most definitely not because I don't want to be his friend.

We used to be friends, really good friends.

It all boils down to the fact that right now my life is so crazy, so fucked up already, that school – my friends – that's the only thing I have control of. High school is the easy part for me. Among Jake and Ang and Leah and the rest of the gang, I fit in and feel normal. Happy. Content. The drama between my circle of friends is manageable and containable, and nothing that I can't handle.

And when there's smooth sailing and calm seas, you never rock the boat. Not on purpose anyway.

**... *lg* ...**

My phone rings from my bedside table.

I slap the wood searching for it, refusing to open my eyes. I hate being interrupted from a nap.

"Yo! Eddie! Whassssup?"

"What do you want Emmett?" I glance over at the clock, it's fifteen after seven in the evening. I can't believe I've been asleep for two hours.

"Let's go shoot some hoops. Meet me at the park in twenty?" He yells too loudly through the phone.

I rub my palm over my face still trying to wake up and remember what day of the week this is. Tuesday, I think? "Yeah, sure. Twenty minutes." I don't even hang up my cell, I just throw it toward the foot of my bed, two seconds later, it hits the hardwood floor.

Great. I hope it didn't break again.

**... *lg* ...**

On the drive to the park, I can't help but think of Bella.

This is not normal for me. I have lots of girls that are friends. A few girls that are a little more than friends. Tons of girls who want to be more than friends.

I'm around girls all the time.

So why is she any different? Other than the obvious, I mean.

I don't get it?

I tap on the steering wheel as I wonder who else will be at the park tonight? Emmett and I usually play a few games of one on one, but of course, Rosalie won't be able to stay away for long. She'll have to make an appearance. Check up on Em and make sure that no other females are in the vicinity. She might as well piss on his leg and get it over with.

I bet she'll bring Jess too.

Dammit all to hell and back.

I hope, at least, they hold off until later to show up. I want to talk to Emmett about the whole Ben Cheney thing. It seemed to really bother Bella today when I brought it up.

The altercation happened spring break of our junior year, I was out of town at an UDub baseball camp for the week. My dad told me when I got back that weekend that Ben had been in the wrong place at the wrong time and got the crap beat out of him.

He was out of school for over two weeks. He didn't press charges and it was never revealed who did it.

Ben was never a close friend of mine, but he did hang in our group, or he did until that happened. He even quit the soccer team and he had been the star goalie.

Our soccer team sucked ass after that, we didn't even win a game after finishing third in state the year before.

I never thought much about it until now, but I wonder if he quit because he wanted too, or if he was forced?

**... *lg* ...**

Even though Emmett is as strong as an ox, my long arms and legs, my ability to palm a ball, and my height works wonders every time we play basketball.

He's not the most coordinated ox either.

The longer we play, every time I beat him, dunk right over his fat head, he gets more and more angry and starts to play rough and dirty.

He can't stand to lose.

Pussy.

So after I hand him his ass, twice - he starts to complain about his knee hurting. _Wah wah_ _wah. _We decide to take a breather and drink a Gatorade.

We sit down on the empty bleachers and I figure that now is as good time as any. "Last night, Newton mentioned that thing that happened Junior year with Ben Cheney, I don't think I ever heard what actually happened." I say right before I turn my drink up and chug it.

Emmett shakes his head, "From what I heard, it was nothing, man. He ran his mouth and he got put in his place."

Emmett isn't looking at me directly, but I can tell he's lying.

"Emmett don't give me that bullshit, I know you were there. What was it all about?" I ask as I take off my sweaty t-shirt and swipe it across my forehead.

He laughs. "It was just a misunderstanding, Eddie. All I wanted to do was talk to him. Talk some sense into that ugly head of his. He didn't appreciate it though." Emmett shrugs his shoulders.

"What were you trying to tell him?" I ask getting annoyed that Emmett is trying to play this off as nothing.

I can tell he's hesitant to talk and I know I have to keep myself in check. Emmett's a testy fucker.

"Well, he had just started dating whats-her-name? That... that bitch that he's still with, and I tried to tell him that it wasn't cool. She was a distraction and that he shouldn't insult us like that, by being with her. He didn't understand the rules though, you know?"

The rules? What in the hell is he talking about? I turn my head away from Emmett, hiding the anger that I feel starting to boil underneath my skin.

"What did he say to you?" I question in my pretend-most-normal-voice that I can.

"He told me to mind my own business, and that I had no right to talk shit about his girl. He basically said he'd date who ever he wanted and that I had no say in his personal life." Emmett's back straightens and his shoulders square.

"What did you say about that?" This time I'm talking though clenched teeth, all this shit is so fucked up.

"I told him he was mistaken and that he better do as I suggested… or else." He nods his head and I feel the arrogance seeping from his posture. He's such a cocky asshole.

"What do you mean or else?" Now I have to look him dead in the eyes. I have to. I have to know if he's telling me the truth with how far he took this thing with Ben. I shift on the bleachers, turning toward him. I try and mask my temper the best I can. "What exactly was you going to do?"

"Well, he wouldn't have been able to sit with us at lunch or hang with us all the fucking time or anything. That's for damn sure! And I knew I could get him benched on the football team, but no! That punk ass had to get all mighty on me and shit. He got up in my face, he even pushed me!"

"So you beat the shit out of him, Emmett? What in the hell!" My hands are flying all over the place.

"Fuck no. I didn't touch him; but my friends that were with me, they might have stayed after I left and played with him for a bit." Emmett looks straight at me and his eyes, they're so cold.

"So you thought it was okay that he got roughed up because he didn't follow your stupid ass rules? And then you were going to have our best kicker benched on the football team during our junior and senior year because he wouldn't break up with some girl that you didn't think was good enough for him? What about soccer? Did he quit because of you?"

It's getting harder and harder to wrap my head around this high school bullshit. I can't believe he would take it so far.

"No! Edward, don't be stupid. It wasn't that bad. He was weak, that's why he got so busted up. And it wasn't all about some piece of ass either, he just needed to be put in his place."

Emmett gets up and jogs over to the basketball goal. He starts shooting the ball again. I can't even stand to look at him.

_He's_ _supposed to_ _be my_ _best friend?_

_Who_ _does_ _he_ _think he is?_

Just then, Rosalie and Jessica pull up and I take that as my cue to get the hell out of here.

"I got to go Em. I'll talk to you later." I storm past him. Not knowing what else to say.

Jessica whines something as I pass by her standing near my driver's side door. I care more about the dirt that covers the bottom of my shoe, so I say nothing to her, or Rosalie for that matter.

I speed home, my grip tight on the steering wheel. I'm pissed and disgusted.

Bella has mentioned a few times that there are some tight cliques at Northwestern High, but I had no idea. Is this the way it's always been?

Have I been so ignorant and removed from it all that I haven't noticed this happening around me?

What is wrong with _me?_

**... *lg* …**

It ends up just being a girl night for me, Emily, Leah, and Angela at the movie in the park. Ang complains a lot saying that she misses Ben, so we all give her a hard time about it.

"Can't you just enjoy the movie without him kissing all over your face?" I pretend to kiss her, making smooching noises. "Without rubbing all over your back?" I rub up and down her back. "Holding your hand?" I grab her hand in hold it in both of mine.

"Stop it, Bella," she tries to pull her hand away from mine, but I hold on to it tighter.

"I love you. Angela." I mock in my best Ben voice.

"You're such a butt," but finally she laughs, so I pull on her hand to have her lie back beside me on our blanket.

"It's Dirty Dancing, Ang, you have to enjoy the movie. I mean, really. One of the best movies ever." I let go of her hand and roll onto my side so I can prop my head up.

She smiles at me and then focuses back on the large screen draped across the side of building.

I turn to watch the movie play. The dancing and grinding. It's hot for an old movie.

I stand up and start dancing, pretending to have a guy in front of me, so I'm more or less humping the air. I sing along with the song that's playing and quote the lines as they are said.

Before too long, Leah jumps up and jerks me back down to the blanket. "You are such an attention whore! Sit down!"

I laugh and roll over to put my head in her lap.

"Sorry," I say, even though I'm not.

I'd keep dancing all night if they'd let me.

**... *lg* …**

I go home and shower.

Still pissed and confused.

I stand in the water stream until the water turns cold.

I don't understand Emmett. Or this whole situation.

What was he thinking?

**... *lg* …**

There's nothing to watch on television, and I'm bored as hell in this big house .

So I grab my cell, my keys, and I get in the car to leave, not admitting to myself where I'm going. I just keep telling myself that I'm going for a drive.

_Going for a_ _drive._

_Going for a drive. _

_Just a drive. _

I park out in the back corner of Westside Park. I can see the movie screen, but it's at an angle, so that makes it blurry. I lean up against the hood of my car. I have no intentions of going in or getting any closer. I'm not even sure why I'm here.

Well, except that I do.

_She's_ here.

I scan the crowd looking for her. There's a good couple hundred people scattered around the open field, some sitting in fold up chairs, some lying on blankets and towels spread out on the ground.

I want to talk to her, have her explain it all to me because, honestly, I still don't get it. I feel like I should apologize to her, even though I didn't do anything to her. Hell, I didn't even do anything to Cheney.

Except for nothing. I did nothing and maybe that's what makes me feel so guilty.

The scene gets brighter and then it's like one of those corny movies, where the crowd parts, and the lead woman is practically in a natural spotlight and everything around her happens in slow motion.

But the crowd is just one really fat guy who moves over to the side, and there's no actual slow motion, or spotlight, just the reflection of the movie but it's bright enough and it shines on her.

I see Bella.

She dancing around her friends and as usual, she's laughing and happy and very attractive. Gorgeous.

I must be the most narcissistic person ever. First, I wasn't aware that my friends are such snobby, mean, awful people. Not only that, but second, they're bullies of the worst kind - harassing and persecuting, unrelenting until they get their way. And last but not least, I never noticed that I go to school, share hallways, classes, and _air _with one of the most prettiest girls I've ever seen.

Someone in her group pulls her down to the ground, and I lose sight of her, but I keep my eyes trained on her general area.

She makes me smile, even from way over there.

"Well look who it is."

Tanya walks up with her sister Irene, who tells her she'll be right back and runs off toward the crowd to leave Tanya and I standing at my car alone.

"Are you here to meet Bella?" she asks with this sly grin on her face.

I think I stop breathing for a minute. "Whha- nnno. Www... why would you think that?" rushes out of my mouth in a jumble of letters and sounds.

Tanya throws her head back and laughs. "Calm down Cullen. I saw you two today, you was dropping her off at her house. So spill."

Damn.

"Uh, we, uh..." I stumble around, not wanting to lie to Tanya, but not wanting to divulge too much information about Bella either.

"Are you two dating?" She's so blunt.

And nosy.

I shake my head.

"So you're fucking then?"

"Would you keep it down!" I look around and make sure no one that matters heard her. "No, we're not fucking, we're just friends." It kind of sucks to admit it out loud, but it is what it is.

"And? That's all?"

"We, uh… we're both going to traffic school this week, and she needs a ride, that's it." There. Simple.

"Hmm. Interesting. So you are not here to see Bella then, because I know she's here somewhere?" Tanya stands on her tip toes and looks around.

That's it. I've told her enough. "No. I just drove over to see what movie was showing." I give her the evil eye hoping she'll drop it.

"Right." She nods her head and rolls her eyes.

"Wait, how do you know she's here?" I fold my arms and ask.

About that time, Bella comes into view again and I'll be damned, I can't not watch her.

Tanya sees her also, I can tell by the way she licks her teeth. "I have my ways. So is she dating anyone?"

I answer quickly, "no."

We both stand immobile and watch as she dances around her friends.

"Is she straight?" Tanya asks, biting on the tip of her finger.

"I'm... yeah. I think so, yeah."

Did I mention Bella's _dirty dancing_ by herself?

"And you're not going out with her?" Tanya says out of breath.

"No, it was hard enough to get her to accept my offer for a ride, much less be my friend." I say before I've even realized what I've admitted to her.

Tanya drops her hand down to her side with a plop. "Why is that?"

I clear my throat and shake my head. I tell Tanya bits and pieces about the things that Bella has told me, and how we shouldn't be friends, and the whole hierarchy high school thing.

"And you didn't realize that before, Cullen?" Tanya asks with annoyance.

"No, I didn't. Why is that?" I hope she can tell me because I'm really freakin' annoyed by it.

"I'm not sure, but maybe you've just had your head stuck too far up your ass to notice."

Well. That helps a lot. Not.

I jam my hands hard into my jean pockets and go back to watching Bella - I mean the movie.

"What about you Tanya? You know that your friends are pathetic and you still willing hang out with them. Why is that?"

Tanya huffs. "Edward, Rosalie has been my best friend since we were in diapers, you know this. She's like that annoying cousin that you just love to hate. And I may hang out with them, but I don't tolerate their behavior nor do I encourage it. Sometimes I walk away, sometimes I voice my opinion. It depends. The big question is, what are you going to do with your new found knowledge?"

I don't answer her.

We both just stand there quietly and watch 'the movie.'

It gets to the sexy part. I watch Bella. I can faintly see her lips move as she recites that Baby girl's words to Patrick Swayze, "_Me? I'm scared of everything! I'm scared of what I saw. I'm scared of what I did, of who I am. And most of all, I'm scared of walking out of this room and never feeling the rest of my whole life... the way I feel when I'm with you!"_

Then Bella turns around and wraps her arms around herself and pretends to make out _with herself_.

_Hot damn._

**... *lg* ...**

I see Irene heading back our way.

Tanya must see her too, she leans over, standing parallel to me, her devious smile back in full force, "Well, since you're not dating her, you won't mind me asking her out, right?" She giggles and so help me, I wanna slap her.

"Whatever," I answer. "Good luck with that."

I have no doubt, Bella won't go out with her. She's as straight as a board.

She walks away and finally, I get peace and quiet. I need more time to think, but the longer I wonder and think, the more aggravated I get.

The movie ends and the crowd begins to disperse.

I still haven't moved.

I lose sight of Bella and her friends and it makes matters worse.

I need to talk to her.

Now.

* * *

><p><em>Beegurl, did you see your fav? ;)<em>

**A/N: Sorry, sorry, sorry for the delay of updates, Might Have Been kinda took over my life for a month or so there, but I'm back & so is Losing Game. Hearts & rainbows to surething for reading over this & making sure it wasn't the worst thing she's ever read.**

**Review?**


	9. Illegal Hold

_**"Being defeated is often a temporary condition. Giving up is what makes it permanent." ~ Marilyn vos Savant**_

"Bella? Bella hun, are you awake?"

I groan and cover my head with my pillow. Maybe she'll get the hint and go away because I'm not awake.

My bedroom door opens anyway. "Um, Bella, there's a, there is a boy... out in the driveway. He appears to be...to be asleep... in his car? I don't know him, so will you, uh, go and see if he's... yours? Please?"

What is she talking about? I huff and throw my pillow to the floor. "Mom, are you serious right now?" I can't image who would be asleep in our driveway.

I look at the clock, Edward isn't due here for another hour and a half.

It's too damn early to deal with this, but I slip on a pair of flip flops and head outside.

As soon as I open the door, I freeze in my spot.

I know that car.

It is Edward.

_What __in __the__..._

I approach the car, nervous and unsure.

I peek in through the window.

Yep, it definitely is Edward and he's definitely still asleep.

His head is thrown back against the headrest and his mouth is gaping open. That may even be drool that's rolling out of the corner of his mouth.

Aw, he's still cute.

I bend down and use my fingernail to tap on his driver side window.

He doesn't move.

I make a fist and rap a little harder on the window.

He doesn't even budge.

Shit.

I check the door, it's unlocked, so I jerk it open quickly.

His head flops to the side but he still doesn't wake up.

But what I notice is the aroma from the interior of the car that assaults me as soon as I open the door, all cinnamon and clean and warm and boy.

It makes me tingle.

His gum has fell out of his mouth and is stuck to his shirt, and there's a small puddle of drool on his collar too.

The lights are still lit up on his dash, so his car probably was running at some point when he fell asleep, and I bet he has ran out of gas. But did he run out of gas as he got here or while he waited?

And why would he not come to the door and knock?

_Edward__ Cullen__, __what __am__ I __going __to __do__ with__ you__?_

I put my hand on his shoulder, he's still warm, so he's not dead, not that I thought he was, but... yeah.

I push on his shoulder a little.

He sways with the force, but doesn't wake up.

I push a little harder, practically shaking him now, "Edward, wake up! Edward! Hey! Wake up!"

His eyes begin to flutter open.

Thank goodness.

His hand comes up to wipe at his face and his drool drizzled chin.

He looks over at me, still standing in my pajamas at his open door.

His eyes narrow and then he looks around again, obviously confused and still half asleep.

"Bella?" His voice is low and scruffy, it sounds different first thing in the morning.

"Hey, what are you doing here?" I step back and watch him unbuckle his seat belt. He's still looking around his car, then he turns off the switch.

He mutters something under his breath, I try not to laugh at him.

"Uh, I came over here last night... you weren't home, so I was going to to wait until you got here. But I must have dozed off and left my car running, and now, crap. Now I'm out of gas. Www-what time did you get home anyway?" His voice begins to rise as he talks and at the same time his cheeks darken in embarrassment.

"Edward, come on in. Let's get you a shower and some coffee. We still have an hour or so before we have to leave for traffic school. We can talk after you wake up."

He seems hesitant, but he follows me in.

I show him where he can shower and clean up in the spare bathroom. I ask if he needs anything, he shakes his head, so I go to my own bathroom to get ready.

I don't have any idea what he would want to talk to me about.

I said I would ride with him and that we could hang out for the rest of the week.

What else is there?

**... *****lg***** …**

I dress and pull my hair up. I go into the kitchen and start us a pot of coffee. I go ahead and prepare our lunch, more pimento cheese sandwiches and chocolate pudding cups.

Before too much longer his bare feet drag against the hardwood floor, alerting me of his presence. He's carrying his shoes and socks in his hands. His hair is wet and flat, and darker than it normally is. He also has shed one of his t-shirts, the drool stained one, only wearing the plain white under shirt.

I watch as he looks at our surroundings. He's never been in the inside of my house, only a few of my friends have. It's weird to see him here, but weird in a good way.

He sits his stuff down near the doorway, and runs his hand through his hair. He's shuffling back and forth on his feet, clearly uncomfortable.

"How do you like it?" I ask as I hold up a coffee cup.

Instead of telling me, he takes long strides over to me, and takes the cup out of my hands. He fixes his coffee to his liking and I watch with amusement.

He always seems so confident and even borderline cocky, and now he's all shy and at a loss of words.

I like it.

He turns around to stand and rest against the counter. He blows at his coffee. I watch as his lips pucker and then force myself to stop looking. I take a seat at the table, throwing out my hand to offer for him to sit with me.

Eventually he does.

But we are too stiff and quiet.

Screw it, "Why were you asleep in my driveway, Edward?"

He looks up at me over his mug as he takes a sip, stalling. "I told you, I was waiting for you. Where were you all night?"

I roll my eyes. "I was here, I got home around eleven thirty. Then I went upstairs and went to bed, but why were you waiting on me?"

"It didn't look like you were home. I mean, that's why I didn't come to the door and knock or anything. I didn't want to wake your parents up, but... you were here?" He sits his cup down on the table with a look of agitation in his otherwise, gorgeous green eyes.

"You wouldn't have woke my parents, it's just me and my mom and she works nights, so..." I don't know why I'm reluctant to tell him things.

"You're home at night by yourself?" He asks with shock.

I nod.

"Every night?"

I nod again, "Yeah, I'm used to it."

"Where does she work?" He begins to whisper now.

"It's not important Edward, and you're not going to wake her up, trust me. We can talk about that another time." I tuck my stray hair behind my ear, "But what did you want?" I notice that I'm whispering to and leaning in toward him just a little.

"I wanted to talk..." He fingers the handle of his mug. His eyes wide and sad, his eyebrows scrunched together.

"About what?" I ask, so quiet, it's almost just a breath.

He waits to answer, "Anything..." he looks down at his hands before looking back up at me, "...everything."

Then my cell phone buzzes on the counter, breaking us out of our bubble.

I go and check it.

I laugh when I look at it. "It was my alarm, Edward's going to be here soon to pick me up."

He shakes his head with a laugh. "We should get going then, before he gets here. Let me get my shoes on."

"Take this." I stuff the full lunch bag into his hands after he joins me back in the kitchen.

"What's this?" He asks as I lock the front door.

"It's our lunch, we'll have plenty of time to eat. It seems you got some 'splaining to do today." I wink as we walk toward his car.

"Crap, I'm out of gas remember." His shoulders fall in defeat and he just stands there.

"Hang on." I run back inside and grab my keys to my car. I dangle them in front of his face, "You can drive mine."

"Seriously?" He asks almost giddy as he rushes around to the driver's side to unlock the door.

"Boys," I mumble as we get in and drive away.

**... *****lg***** …**

Edward's quiet as he drives, he keeps rubbing his hands over and around the steering wheel and pushing all the buttons.

"You like my silver Volvo, do you?" I tease.

He shrugs, "I just like driving different cars, it's a thrill." He pushes on the gas harder and looks over at me wiggling his eyebrows.

"Is that why you're in traffic school?" I ask.

"Doing this?" He revs the motor again. "Yeah, I have a lead foot, I've gotten one too many speeding tickets and then I ran a red light, well, technically it was still yellow, but..."

I snort, "You're such a rebel."

"What about you?"

"Oh, uh, let's see. Speeding, failure to use a signal, not yielding to traffic, speeding again, broken tail light, eluding police and then finally, reckless driving."

"Holy shit. Were you trying to get your license revoked?"

I take a deep breath. "No, I just hoping not to get caught. I've learned my lesson though, sowed those seeds, whatever. My dad's a cop upstate, so he pulled a few strings for me." I feel guilty as I talk about it. It all sounds so immature now.

"Damn." Edward says under his breath.

"What did you want to talk to me about?" I ask as we pull into the building where traffic school is being held.

Edward gets out and reaches into the back seat for our lunch. We meet at the front of the car and he says two words, "Ben Cheney," and I know this talk will have to wait.

**... *****lg***** …**

Officer Jenks tells us after he takes roll that we will be watching a slide presentation in another room today. He leads us down the hall into a room that has bench seats that look like old church pews. Hard, uncomfortable seats. Really? We have to sit here all day?

Edward and I find to a place to sit toward the back.

I'm right, we might as well be sitting on a bare two by four.

Edward sits on the end and not long after the lights go off, his heads starts to bob forward. He's falling asleep!

I elbow him, "Wake up!"

He shakes his head and rubs both his palms over his face. "Sorry, I didn't sleep much last night. I was awake until three waiting on you." he hisses.

Just minutes later his head is falling forward again. I lean over toward him, gently reaching up and sliding my right palm against the left side of his neck. I tug his head over toward me. I know he's half asleep but I instruct him anyway. "Edward, lay your head on my shoulder."

He scoots further down into the bench, his legs widening and his knee rubbing against my leg. His arms are crossed, and he burrows his face deeper in the crook of my neck, so much more intimate than just leaning his head over onto my shoulder.

I hold my breath a little.

My fingertips are still on his bare skin on his neck, right at the edge of his hair, I can't help but scratch and move my fingers up just a little before I pull my hand away. He makes this noise, it's a cross between a hum and a groan, and I feel the vibrations of it skate over my body, like a warm breeze on a cool day.

We stay in this position for a long time. Every once in a while he takes this deep breath and then slowly exhales. It tickles the stray hairs around my face and my neck. It makes my breath catch every time.

Once I even accidentally turn my head toward him, forgetting he was so close. The hair on the top of his head brushes against my nose and before I can stop myself, I'm inhaling him. The bad thing is, I don't stop. I keep breathing him in. My face practically buried in his hair. Over and over again. His smell is strong and distinctive and good and all him.

I forget who he is, and who I am, and all those walls that will always be between us.

Right now, he's just a guy and I'm just a girl, nothing more, nothing less.

When Jenks goes to turn off the projector, I'm hating the fact that I have to stop smelling him, and that I have to wake him up.

I refuse to think about how much I have enjoyed our bubble.

And that it's a turn-on in the most odd of ways.

I reach back up, put my fingers in his hair, right behind his ear, "Edward, Hey! Wake up!"

He groans again and I back away. His head slowly lifts from my body and instantly I miss it.

He looks up at my face with groggy eyes and then back down to my shoulder.

I tentatively smile and mouth the words, "wake up."

"Oh shit." He stretches his arms above his head and I force myself to look away. "Is that?" He points to my shoulder, "did I drool on you?"

I stand and cringe, even though I don't think it's gross at all. "Yeah, I guess you did."

"Let me..." He bites his lip and shuffles to stand behind me. He tilts my head over to the side, and begins to wipe at my shirt. But instead of feeling that, I feel his fingertips as they accidentally swipe the bare skin of my neck. I feel the toes of his shoes between my legs as he stands so close. I feel his knee bend and hit against the back of my leg as he shifts even closer. I see the top of his head as he peers over my shoulder from behind. I feel his shirt as it comes into contact with the back of my arm.

"There," then I feel his breath heat my shoulder as he inspects my shirt.

"It's... gah... don't. It's fine." I walk away quicker than I should to the break room so we can eat our lunch.

He takes our food and begins to spread it out on the table while I get us a couple of drinks from the machine.

"Have a nice nap?" I hand him his Dr. Pepper.

He takes his gum out of his mouth and pops the top to take a big drink. "Not enough. I'm still tired as fuck."

"Hmmm," I nod.

We eat in silence. He devours it. I take my time.

I only eat half my sandwich. I wrap the leftovers up to toss them in the garbage and he watches me like I've just lost my mind.

"You're not throwing that away are you?" He scoffs.

"Yeah, I guess, I..."

He shakes his head and takes it from my hand, only to remove the wrapper and stick the rest of it in his mouth all at once.

I roll my eyes and look at the clock, we have ten more minutes.

"So?" I say.

"Yeah," he rubs his hands on his thighs and rocks back and forth.

"I talked to Emmett." Edward admits.

"I figured as much." I say as my body starts to stiffen with disgust.

"And Bella, I had no idea. I was out of town when that happened, and you know I had nothing to do with it, don't you? I.." he shakes his head. "I'm so sorry."

I cut him off, "Edward, I didn't know what your involvement was or anything, but I don't think I'm the one you need to be apologizing to."

He nods. "I know that, I just feel so shitty about it all. I swear, I don't know what my problem is."

I generally feel bad for holding it against Edward when he probably didn't even have anything to do with it.

"Now do you understand what I mean when I say we can't be friends? It won't work, Edward."

He stands up and ignores my comment. "Let's go back to class."

He walks away and I follow him down the hall. His demeanor is defeated and his hands are tucked deep in his pockets. He takes long strides, but his steps are slow.

He plops back down on our spot on the bench seats. I carefully sit down beside him. He looks over at me, his gorgeous face marred with a heartbreaking frown.

I try to smile at him, but he looks away first.

The lights go back off and the hum of the projector fills the room again.

Edward leans over, his face still looking straight ahead, and not at me. "I don't care what they say, Bella... we're still friends. I won't let them dictate my life like that."

I look over at him, his face serious and stern, his lips straight, his jaws clenching.

I want to agree with him, I do.

It just isn't that easy, and as bad as I don't want to admit, it might not even be worth it.

* * *

><p><em>Can you say slow burn?<br>_

_It's only Wednesday in fic world, so they have 2 days of traffic school left. Have I said yet that this traffic school is based on RL events? I went (had to go), as a senior, I met a guy (very popular guy from my school), they rest they say is history. I did date him for a few weeks, but we didn't .. ya know. Now I'm wishing..._

_Please review. _

_Twitter: Mrs_Robward_


	10. Reverse

_**"Am I not destroying my enemies when I make friends of them?" ~ Abraham Lincoln**_

I'm not sure how to explain it. How I can convince her that I am my own person?

I'm not really sure that I am.

I slept outside her house last night just waiting to talk to her, and then when I have the chance, I don't know what to say.

I could tell she was uncomfortable when she let me in her home, but I think that she almost trusts me.

And I like that, because as crazy as it may be, I think I almost trust her too.

Here she has feed me twice. She let me bathe in her house and she didn't ride my ass or call me looney for sleeping in my car. She just accepts and gives as if we've always been friends. I don't deserve it and I sure in the hell don't think me driving her ass back and forth to traffic school is going to be enough of a payback.

I need to think of something more, but my mind keeps drawing a blank.

**... *****lg***** …**

Her Volvo is a little speed demon, it's no wonder she's received a few tickets from behind the wheel.

Truthfully, her being a rebel is kind of hot, as if I need another reason to be attracted to her.

We walk out of class quiet and casual. Neither of us having said much since lunch and after I tried to apologize about the whole Ben thing.

But I did forget to mention the food. "Thanks for the sandwiches, Bella. You know you're spoiling me, right?" I give her my best smile and my puppy dog eyes.

She looks over at me, the sun blinding her, making her squint so she probably can't even see my face. "Please Edward, it's no problem. Anyway, I bet you have chicks spoiling you all the time."

Immediately I feel defeated. Hearing her say that hurts a little, it isn't the first time she's commented on my reputation_—that for the most part—_has been fueled by gossip more than reality.

"No, Bella. I don't... It's not like you think." I state.

She huffs and keeps on walking towards her car.

"I'm serious." I say with more aggravation than I mean to.

"How is it then Edward? Because from what I've heard, you've had your share of girls from Northwestern, even branching out to females at many of the surrounding colleges in greater Seattle." Her door is closed and her arms are propped over the roof of the car. She's watching me close, studying my face, gauging my reaction.

So I tell her the truth. "It's not like that. Have I screwed around? Yeah. Have I had sex with half of the people it's rumored that I've had sex with? Hell no. Not even a fourth, I swear. I've fooled around a bit, but not like you've heard. But listen, that's just not my thing. Emmett likes to feed that gossip mill and make my life sound like this nonstop party. It makes his social life more interesting or some bullshit."

She looks away and runs her fingers through her hair.

Knowing that she probably still thinks of me as that type of guy stings in ways I'd rather not admit to. "You believe me don't you?"

Her eyes finally meet mine and she gives me this sad smile and nods. "Can I ask you something though?" she adds.

I unlock the doors with the remote. "Of course," I answer as we get in and I start up her car.

"Does it really matter to you what I think about you and your reputation?" She's looking at me with that look again, the one that's like she can see into the depths of me—into those hidden places she isn't supposed to see.

It unnerves me and excites me at the same time, because I think—just maybe—I want her to see. "Yeah, it does matter. It matters more than you know." I say with all seriousness.

I pause as she thinks over what I just said.

Then she looks away again and the spell is broken between us.

Finally, I can relax.

**... *****lg***** …**

"What are you and your friends going to do tonight?" I ask while we stand in her driveway and I fill my tank with gas that we stopped and put in a jug on the way home.

She's leaned back and propped against my car looking at the ends of her hair, "Nothing. I think Ang may come over, hang out, but we're not going anywhere. What about you?"

I shrug and answer, "I don't know." The truth is, I don't think I want to go out tonight. I feel like going home and crawling in the bed and sleeping for days.

I screw the gas cap on and go to start my car to see if it runs alright.

It does.

"So, I'll see you in the morning?" She asks as she begins to back away toward her house.

I stand up in the expansion of my open door, "Of course." I rack my brain for something more to say to her, but what else is there?

She slowly walks backward away from me and my car. She throws her hand up with a small wave. She mouths 'bye' and gives me a closed mouth smile.

I reciprocate and answer, "See ya'," and force myself to sit down and close my door.

I wish I had more to say to her to prolong our time together—yet as much as I want to, there really is no need to do so, only some undefinable want deep inside of me.

**... *****lg***** …**

"You'll never guess what happened today?"

"Hmmmm?" I hum as Ang massages the black dye into the roots of my hair. I love the way it feels, even with those plastic gloves she's wearing. I encourage her to look it over good, I hate having my roots lighter than my ends.

"Today Edward Cullen called Ben." She says in an hushed tone.

I almost slide off the closed lid of the toilet seat straight onto the floor. I right myself and try to act normal. "Say what?"

"Yes! Before I came over here, Ben cell phone rang and it was Edward. Supposedly, he was apologizing to Ben about...well, you know. They were still talking when I left to come over here, then Ben called me and said that Edward seemed sincere and everything. I think it made Ben feel good." Her eyes start to tear and she looks away from me.

I get this funny swirling in my stomach that I try really hard to ignore. "So, what do you think about that?" I ask because of course Ang still doesn't know that I've been on Edward's friendly side for the past few days, same as the rest of our friends, so it makes me curious as to what she will say.

"I'm done," she announces as she slips off her gloves. "Here, paint my toes while we wait." She props her foot on the side of the toilet and holds out her arms to balance herself.

I open the black polish and start to brush over her toenails.

"You know how it is, Bella. You never really know a person, I guess. I mean, look at us. Most people think we live like the sequel to The Craft, levitating and calling the corners of the earth and shit. And why? Because we appear dark and scary, oooooh, and we wear black fingernail polish and shirts with skulls." She rolls her eyes and snorts at herself.

"And then we casually flip people off if we don't like the way the look at us. We pretend to not give a crap about what people think of us, but really, we all know better than that. It's easy to pass judgment on others just by who their friends are and what we think we know about them. I believe most of the time, we're wrong. But it is what it is."

I think I must have zoned out a little as she was talking because her toenails look awful, I mean really bad, but I don't say anything as she switches her feet.

I do get what she's saying, she's right and it makes me feel guilty.

"Ben says he believes Edward and that he never blamed him for any of it, but Ben isn't ready to hang out with Edward or anything. I think he'll always have that fear that he's being pranked or set up or something. He doesn't trust him completely and I don't blame Ben either."

Ang picks up the timer at the same time that I finish up with her left foot.

"Five more minutes." She picks at one of the strands of my hair, looking it over and checking the color.

I have to ask her, I have to know. "Did Edward say why all of a sudden he felt the need to apologize to Ben?"

She laughs, "Ah, something about someone pulling the wool away from his eyes? Hell, I don't know. He told Ben he'd never realized how things really are at Northwestern and now he feels bad. He even suggested Ben come and try out for the kicker position on the football team again."

Hearing that makes me smile and it my heart skip a beat. I think I've been too harsh on my perception of Edward, maybe he's a halfway decent guy, or maybe even more.

"That'll never happen though. As bad as Ben would love to play, he'll never be on the same team as Emmett McCarty. Oh... it's time! Get your towel and stick your head under here." Ang jumps back and turns the water on. She makes a space for me at the tub and I get on my knees. She's still talking about Ben and soccer and football, but my thoughts are elsewhere.

My thoughts are on someone else and how I should approach said person. How I should tell him that he did the right thing and I'm kind of proud of him.

And that it might be worth the effort after all to be his friend again.

**... *****lg***** …**

I stare at my ceiling for hours. I thought I'd be able to sleep, but it never comes.

It's seven thirty.

The house is quiet and lonely.

I go down to basement and turn the stereo wide open. I lift and train and exercise until I think I might fall over from exhaustion.

The whole time I'm repeating my conversations from the past few days in my mind.

Bella.

Emmett.

Ben.

I can't get the voices to hush. The reminders fuel my energy. The hate and disgust push me to work out until I'm dry heaving into the bushes outside the back door. I'm covered in sweat and shame and remorse.

Then I think about her, about Bella. I think about how she acted toward me that first day at traffic school, she had every right to hate me then, even hate me now. But I don't think she does, or at least I hope I've showed her different.

It's nine o'clock. I take off in a jog, I feel the need to run a mile or two, even after my stomach twists and protests with hunger.

I stay on the sidewalk, under the lights of the street lamps, around the neighborhood I'm familiar with.

When I return to the house, the muscles in my legs are aching and feel like rubber. My heart is pounding and I can barely catch my breath. My eyes burn from the sweat that's been dripping down my face.

I go into the bathroom and strip off my clothes. I turn on the hot water and go into my bedroom to grab something to put on afterwards.

I carry a towel over to the shower, I stick my fingers under the water to see if it's hot enough.

It's ice cold.

Then the pressure drops and the water streams dies out. Almost instantly, the tap begins to groan as nothing but air soon leaks from the faucet.

"You've got to be kidding me!" I stare down at the spigot, waiting for the water to start up again.

It never does.

I wrap my towel around my waist and run down the steps to the garage.

I open the back door and sure as shit there's a lock and a note on the meter outside.

I rip off the note, "Mother fucker!"

I storm back inside, slamming doors and fighting the urge to punch holes in the walls of this hellhole.

I run upstairs and kick my bedroom door open.

What in the hell am I going to do now?

I try to phone my dad, of course my call goes to voice mail. I leave him a less than pleasant message.

I stand and look around, I still need a fucking shower.

I put my clothes back on, seething and disgusted that I smell like a damn hobo.

I throw more clothes and essentials into a bag.

I glance at the clock, it's almost midnight.

I curse under my breath as I leave the house, knowing there's only one place I feel comfortable enough to go.

One place I won't be judged.

**... *****lg***** …**

I lie awake thinking about what Ang said.

I know people have the wrong impression of me. I'm not some dark person who plots to blow up my school or shoot all my classmates. I don't cut on myself or draw emo faces wet with tears all over my papers. I don't pray to Marilyn Manson or drink goat's blood.

I'm just a girl trying to get by. I dye my hair, paint my nails black, and keep to myself. I love to read and dance. I even like sports. I adore all my friends. I want to make good grades and please my parents, and as hard as it is, I try to ignore all the imbeciles that I'm surrounded by that don't really know me at all... or even care to. The people who judge me, just as I judge them.

What if it's the same way for Edward? Or for Tanya? Or, oh my lord, what about Rosalie? What if she really is a nice girl and I've got it wrong about her?

Wait. No. Never mind. That's not possible.

But Edward? Maybe it's that way with him. Maybe he's not the person that everyone perceives him to be.

I sit up startled when I hear a car door slam outside.

It's midnight, so I'm thinking it's probably at the house across the street.

But when I get to my window, I see _his_ car.

I see _him _pacing around my yard in the moonlight.

I should be pissed or concerned or aggravated that Edward is here... at my house... at midnight... unannounced... but I'm not.

I'm pleased and ...excited.

* * *

><p><em>No, I haven't replied to reviews and for that I truly am sorry. I hate myself for it, but I only have these small windows into ficland, and I try to spend those writing, hence not leaving me time to do other stuff, including READING! <em>

_**Knockin' Boots** is my newewst fic, it's posted and complete, it was my FAGE contribution. _

_**Ttharman** made me ones of those private facebook groups for my ffic stuff like all the cool authors have, whoop whoop! You have to request to join and be added. It's called **Mrs Robward's Fanficiton Closet**, there should be a link on my profile. Come and join us. Let's talk about what you think is going to happen in the next chapter... *wink*_


	11. Pep Talk

_**How strange that the young should always think the world is against them - when in fact that is the only time it is for them. ~Mignon McLaughlin**_

I quietly open the front door. I lean against the door frame and cross my arms, my head moving left to right with his walking.

Edward doesn't hear me and he doesn't stop his pacing. There's a duffel bag on the ground not far from where he's wearing my grass down and he's mumbling something I can't comprehend.

I can't help but smile as I watch him talk to himself. His figure illuminated simply by the moonlight.

Finally, I break the silence, "Edward Cullen, I know I told you I'd see you in the morning, but aren't you a little early?"

He stops in his steps, still not looking at me. A slow, low 'fuuuck' escapes his lips.

He hesitantly turns toward me, and even through the dim light, the heartbreak that covers his face rips at my chest a little.

His hair is wild and seems to be plastered to his forehead. His clothes are wrinkled and messy.

But it's his eyes I notice more than anything else—how they look so lost and unsure. So embarrassed and hesitant.

"Bella, I…" his shoulders sag and his head falls back as he his hands start to grip at his hair and when he lets go, it says sticking up. He rights his head and looks straight at me taking a deep breath. "Can I-Iii, can I use your shower. I-Iiiii swear I'll explain wwwhen I'm done. P-pplease?"

His words rush out.

I smile to reassure him, I know how he's feeling. It's that feeling where you just need a friend to be there.

I'll be that friend to him.

No questions asked. No assumptions made.

"Of course you can. Come on." I move over to the side of the door and motion for him to enter.

He stands there for a second, contemplating I guess, and then steps over to grab his bag.

He walks slow up the steps and stops right in front of me and my open door. "Are you sure you don't mind? It's after midnight and I don't want to get you in trouble with your parents."

He's gripping his bag with both hands and practically wringing it as though it's soaked with water.

"I told you my mom works nights, and besides, she doesn't care about that type of thing."

His eyebrows raise in question as he walks by.

I shake my head, "It's a long story."

I close the door and he heads toward the steps to use the spare bathroom he used before. He turns and faces me again and I notice there's a little less worry in his eyes.

"How about I'll tell you mine if you tell me yours?" His voice raises an octave or two as he asks.

"What? My story for your story?" I question just to be sure.

He slowly nods his head as his eyebrows lift and disappear under his hair. He has this shy smile and he's biting his bottom lip like he's trying to keep his smile from getting any bigger.

I open my mouth to speak but nothing comes out. I'm not sure what to say, because I definitely want to know his story. But do I really want to tell mine?

I mean, this is Edward Cullen we're talking about!

"Never mind," he says in response to my pause. He spins around about the same time this god-awful noise growls from the depths of his stomach.

I try not to act as surprised as I am. Why is he so hungry? Did he not eat dinner?

Something's not right.

"I have some leftover pizza, I'll warm it up while you shower if you want?" I'm already walking toward the fridge to get it out before he even says anything.

"Okay, sure." He answers as he slowly starts back up the stairs.

"And Edward?" I yell at him when he's already a few steps up.

"Yeah?"

"I want to, you know—um, swap stories." I admit to him and even to myself.

"Oh, sure. All right." He yells back and then I hear the pounding of his shoes as he rushes the rest of the way to the top. "And Bella?"

"Hmmm?"

"I like your hair." He shouts before I hear the bathroom door slam.

I reach up to comb through my hair and twirl a strand around my finger. I grin big as his small compliment flutters all throughout my chest and settles somewhere near my heart.

**... *****lg***** …**

I hear the bathroom door open and his bare feet against the floor.

"Come in here," I yell at him to join me in my bedroom. I have him a drink and a plate of pizza on my desk. I even put out some covers and a pillow on my futon. He'll need a place to sleep, _it is_ almost one in the morning.

He sticks his head around the open door and his eyes widen a little when he sees me in my bed already under the covers. "In hhhhhere?"

I smile and nod. "Yeah, it's late. You can sleep on my futon tonight. If that's all right with you?"

He slowly strides in, looking all around my room. He gently places his duffel bag on the floor. "I'm not really dressed to sleep." He looks down and points at his jeans.

For just a second, my mind goes _there_, and I think of him naked. I bet he's all sorts of sexy and tone and stuff.

"Just sleep in your boxers or whatever." I twist my hand as I talk. "I'll turn my head, just get under the covers."

I cover my face with my hands, but when I hear the metal button of his jeans hit the floor, I peek through my fingers.

Sexy doesn't even begin to describe it.

He is ...perfect. His body is just, WOW!

After he steps out of his jeans, he quickly launches himself onto the futon and flips the blanket out to open it. It flies up before it gently falls and covers his lap and his legs.

"You can look now."

I never stopped, but I don't tell him that. I casually bring my hands down. His chest is still bare and visible and.. Ugh.

He's making my mouth water. This isn't supposed to happen. I'm not supposed to be this attracted to Edward Cullen. _Crap. _

But then again, I never thought he'd be sleeping on my futon either.

But still, I can't.

I shake my head to clear my thoughts. I fluff my pillows and get comfortable. I watch as he eats his pizza like it's the best tasting thing he's ever ate.

Things just don't add up.

"So, tell me. What's the deal." I shake my head as I talk, I don't know how to start this, or how to ask.

He slows down his chewing. I see the apprehension appear immediately across his face.

There's this silence between us for quite awhile.

I don't rush him. I let him finish eating and gather his thoughts.

"No one knows this, Bella. What I'm going to tell you. No one knows. Not Emmett, or Jasper, or Rose, no one. I just... They... They wouldn't get it. I don't even think they'd give a shit, but... I don't want them to know."

I swallow hard, "Edward, I understand. What I'm about to tell you, no one knows either. No one can know. It's.. it's kind of serious." I pick at my comforter. "Whatever you tell me Edward, it stays here between us. I swear as long as you do the same for me, I won't..."

"I swear too, Bella. I won't ever say anything."

I look up and smile at him. I wipe away the tears, that for some unknown reason, have formed in the corners of my eyes. Then I nod, "Okay."

He wipes his mouth, "I came here tonight because after I worked out, I went to take a shower and the water had been shut off at my house. My dad, he doesn't really live at our house, I mean, he does live there, but it's not where he stays. He has this apartment down the street from the hospital, that's where he stays most of the time. I think he even, no I know he has a mistress too, but, he just... He forgets sometimes," He huffs and frowns. He repeatedly punches the covers with the side of his fist. He doesn't hit it hard, but my gut twists with his confession. I know this has to be humiliating for him.

"Sometimes he forgets to pay the bills. He has hundreds of thousands of dollars in the bank, and our utilities are getting cut off all the time because he forgets to pay them. He won't set them up to automatically pay and draft out of his account and I try to stay on top of them, but..." he shrugs. "I'm busy and I forget too."

"What about your mother?" I curl around on my bed where I can still see him.

He folds his arms up behind his head. "She's a design consultant. She travels all the time and she's never home, maybe once every six weeks or so." He shrugs.

His voice is so flat and dull and … lonely. He's just a big kid, like me, and we shouldn't have to carry the weight of the world on our shoulders. Not yet anyway.

"Does she ever call you?" I see the bigger picture around me starting to develop. Edward's life isn't as it appears. I had judged him wrong. All wrong.

He shakes his head, "Nah, she's busy. She emails me once a week, and that's... that's okay with me."

"But Edward," I start but don't know how to finish. My life my be crazy, but in this messed up way, I still have both my parents. More so than Edward does anyway. "Do either of them ever come to your ball games or anything?"

He shakes his head repeatedly and he's looking off behind me. He won't even make eye contact with me.

He starts talking again and tells me more of his story. He says he doesn't talk to either of his parents very often and that it's been this way for the past couple of years. He has a few credit cards with unlimited spending that he uses for everything he needs and his dad will eventually pay the payments with no questions asked. He says he hates to grocery shop so there's never anything to eat at his house and most of the time he's so sick of fast food he just skips meals.

He never says how he feels about his situation, but he doesn't have to. His sadness has already filled the room, the air around us is dense and heavy.

"I'm sorry Edward," it's not much but it's all I can say.

His eyes finally look at me, he looks so young and vulnerable. "Thank you, but it is how it is, Bella. My life's not all that bad. I'm used to it by now, I just get pissed when the utilities get turned off and tonight I really needed a shower and I…"

He pauses and I watch the way his Adam's apple slowly descends and then rises in his throat, "I-iii didn't have anywhere else to go." His voice is quiet, barely louder than a whisper. He head falls backward to rest on the back of the futon. His hands cover his face.

It makes me want to cry.

If we were closer, and it wasn't one o'clock in the morning, and I wasn't half naked in my pajamas, I would hug him. His bare chest and all.

But I won't, I'll keep it honest between us. "Don't ever hesitate, Edward. You're always welcome here, for no matter what, just come by."

Through his hands he mumbles, "Thank you, Bella. It means a lot."

"Well, I, um" I realize it's my turn to talk, but I've never said this out loud and it I don't know how to just say it. It shouldn't be this difficult though. I just don't know how to make it not sound so …bad.

Dang.

"My mom's a hooker." The words tumble out of my mouth swiftly.

There. That wasn't so hard.

His hands immediately fall to his lap and his head shoots up. His eyes are wide and questioning.

"Not like a cheap one, hooker I mean. She's pricey but, wait. Let me start from the beginning." I try to clarify.

"Okay," he nods.

I sit up and take a deep breath.

He fiddles with his covers as he shifts on the futon, but he never looks away from me. I think I've stunned him stupid.

"My parents divorced when I was nine and my mother and I moved away from my dad in Forks. He's this really quiet man and keeps to himself a lot, so there wasn't much of a place in his life for a preteen age girl.

"We moved into this tiny, shitty apartment in the worst part of the city. It was bad—roaches and mice, and gunshots at all hours. My mom used to stay awake at night, she was too scared to go to sleep and we shared this small bed. It always woke me up when she was crying, the mattress would shake with her sobs, but I never said anything to her. I didn't want her to know that I knew things were bad."

Once again there are slow tears rolling down my face, but I'm not really crying. It's just that I haven't thought about this in so long.

"About a year later, she got a new waitress job. She had to work most nights so I stayed with our neighbor. Not long after that things just started to change and I never asked why. We moved into this house, she started driving a new car, but most of all, she was happy. That made me happy too.

When I was thirteen, I was going to stay with my dad for a few weeks during summer break, but before I left my mom took me for a drive. She finally went to show me where she worked. It was this beautiful highrise building on the outskirts of the city. There were no signs or advertisements anywhere around it, it didn't look like the restaurant I have envisioned in my head. Then she told me it was a gentlemen's club and that she did things for the men that were members there."

My face burns pink as I recall the naughty things I thought of when she said that. "She told me she sometimes was an escort, like dates and reunions and stuff. Then she just said it, my mom said sometimes she has sex with men for money and I remember I started crying." I laugh at myself to keep from crying again as I tell Edward.

"She said she liked it, that it wasn't bad or ugly. She told me not to be upset or worry about her and that all the men were very nice and professional. They pay a lot of money to be a part of this private club and none of them would ever do anything to jeopardize their membership. One of her regulars, he owns a car lot, that's why we drive nice cars. Another one is a major league baseball player, he comes around some during the day. He's a nice guy, I think she genuinely likes him."

I wipe the tears away that have trickled down my cheeks. "She told me about her job that day to warn me that if my father was to find out, it'd be bad. He would take me away from her, he could even have her put in jail. She's a good mother. She provides well for me, anything I want. She lets me live my life with lots of freedom and she even trusts me to have guys over to spend the night or visit." I raise my eyebrows.

Then I look away and take a deep breath. "But it doesn't matter how I describe it, what she does is illegal and frowned upon. I don't anyone to know about it, Edward. You can understand why. You're not the only one with skeletons in your closet."

I thought it would make me feel better to have spilled it all, but it doesn't. I'm still ashamed.

"Bella, I don't think it's that bad, I think it's kind of hot and it makes me want to meet your mom." He laughs this breathy laugh.

"Don't even say that Edward!" I pick up my spare pillow and chuck it at him. I'm thankful for him not being so serious when all I feel like I want to do is cry.

He catches my pillow and wraps his arms around it. "I won't tell Bella, your secret's safe with me." He tucks it under his chin and gives me a small smile.

"Thank you, Edward. We should get some sleep." I think I'm done talking for the night.

He nods and I reach over to switch off the lap.

"Goodnight Edward. Sleep tight."

"Goodnight to you Bella, and don't worry, everything's going to be all right. I mean, things could be worse... for the both of us."

"I know, thank you for listening to me."

"No, thank you."

I hear him take a deep breath as I settle in deeper into my covers. My mind keeps trying to process everything that has happened tonight. But it always comes back to the fact, that I don't understand any of it.

Why Edward picked me?

How did I have him pegged so wrong? He really is a nice guy and not a stuck up jerk.

And why does it suddenly not feel so wrong for him to be here, in my room, with me, and why is there a hint of a wish that maybe he could even be ...a little bit closer?

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><p><em>My new one will be posting soon, it's AH and AU...<em>

_Remember, I don't have this beta'd, so if you see a mistake, tell me, I'll fix it._

_Merry Christmas!_

_You can always leave me a review for a present, I'd be happy with that!_ ;)


	12. Lunch Break

_(Remember, no beta.)_

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><p><strong>A <strong>**positive a****nything ****is ****better ****than ****a ****negative ****nothing****. ~ ****Jerry****McGuire**

I thought it would be awkward waking up with Edward Cullen in my bedroom.

But it wasn't, not at all.

It was as if it happened everyday. It was so easy and it felt, I don't know, real somehow? Like it was this totally natural thing.

I didn't get much sleep, not that I'm complaining because I spent half the night gazing at his face. His sharp angles illuminated and highlighted by the light filtering in through the window from the bright moon. His features so defining and masculine.

Edward is just so pretty and boyish and manly all at the same time. I have to admit—time wasted just looking at him—is time well spent. I've always known Edward was a good looking guy—hell, everybody knows that. But after the hours I spent staring, _and_ the hours we spent talking, _and _the days we've spent getting to know each other—he's so much more than just a handsome face.

He's gorgeous. He's caring. He's understanding. He's kinda the full package.

And he's here, with me, in _my_ bedroom.

Befriending me.

**Me****. **

He's sharing his secrets with me and listening without judgement to the ugly parts of my life.

The lesser half of the night I spent awake lost in my own thoughts. Never before have I questioned why things have happened the way they have in my life. I've always just rolled with the punches. My parents, my friends, my social status... everything. I've never examined it.

But last night, I couldn't stop.

It is as if nothing makes sense any longer and nothing is how it should be. I don't feel sorry for myself, or for Edward even, but I don't feel so content anymore.

I'm not so oblivious as before.

I can't say that I like it.

Maybe it's because my eyes are finally opening up more and more to everything around me.

I remember when I was younger, there was this lady who used to watch me when my mother worked. She would say crazy things to me all the time. Most of the time I thought she had split personalities, she would rattle off on some tangent and I would try my best to ignore her, but there was this one thing she used to repeat that has always stuck with me.

She said that someday soon enough I was going to grow up and see the the world through adult eyes. She told me that one day it would just smack me right in the face and I'd see everything different and the same, worse and better, all at the same time. That I'd be confused and scared and excited and anxious. That I'd just know, and my chest might feel tight, and my shoulders might feel burdened, but not to let it weigh me down or trip me up. That I'd have to fight to prevail.

She warned the world is cold and ugly and I'd have to diligently seek out the warmth and the joy.

She said that happiness was so easy to find if you'd just keep your eyes open and look for it, that happy sometimes hid right around the corner waiting on me and that if I'd find it, grab it, and hold it close, I could keep it and carry it around with me forever.

Yes, a few times I looked for 'happy' not understanding it wasn't a physical thing. But now I think that day has really come. I've matured more in the past few days than I have in years. I know now that happy is a state of mind, it's knowing what I want and realizing what I don't. Happy is pushing through the bad and finding the good. Happy is acceptance and smiles and hope. Happy is me being me without judgments, without hate, without prejudice.

So now the question is, have I found happy?

I can't say for sure. I know that everything isn't so black and white like I'd always presumed. I mean, I freakin' spent the night with Edward Cullen! The Edward Cullen. We spent the night—alone, just talking... and it was so nice and enjoyable that I'd do it again in a heartbeat.

But my friends—my _other_ friends—they would shit their pants if I told them how my spent my night. _They_would be the judgemental ones.

Not black. Nor white.

So where do I go from here?

The only thing I can think of is to keep straddling the fence, not do anything crazy. Keep trudging forward like I am and I'll be free from this hell before too long.

Then none of this bullshit will matter.

**... *****lg***** …**

She wakes me with a push of my shoulder.

"Time to get up, sleepy head and by the way, you sound like a bear when you snore. A big, fat bear." She laughs and turns to walks away. "Bathroom is all yours, come on down to the kitchen after you're ready."

I rub my eyes as she leaves the bedroom and I exhale the breath that I'd been holding.

So last night really did happen.

It was one of the easiest things ever to talk to Bella. It felt good to finally expel the shit storm that is my life. For so long I've hid everything away from everyone. Time after time I effortlessly slip into that roll that my peers cast me in and there I tend to stay. I keep busy, I put up a front, and no one knows a damn thing about me—the real me.

That is until now.

It's a bit of weight off my shoulders, lifted and discarded. Shared and not so heavy.

Yet I feel like I'm on a teeter-totter. I'll leave her house and Bella being my friend will be like another secret of my life I hide. No one will even know.

Then what about in a couple of weeks when school starts? Am I supposed to go about my school day pretending to not know her? Act like she's still my enemy? That she's somehow beneath me and my other friends? Just forget that we don't click like we do?

I don't know if I have it in me.

**... *****lg***** …**

After a short lecture, it's field trip time at traffic school. I eagerly welcome the escape of that stuffy classroom.

Edward and I didn't talk on way here, instead he turned the music up loud and we jammed the short drive.

I'm glad it's like this. That it's not strange or awkward between us.

Too bad it won't last much longer.

**... *****lg***** …**

The bus rumbles down the freeway bouncing more often than not. We're on our way to go and watch a demonstration of how the fireman and the EMTs respond and handle a car crash emergency .

Lovely.

I remember in early elementary school when we'd go on a field trip, we had to have a buddy. That buddy would be our partner for the entire day. Side by side all day long, that's exactly how it'd been for Bella and I so far today.

We sat together in the classroom, walked the hall together, waited in line together, and now here we sat scrunched up on a old, short school bus side by side. We both had our knees pushed against the seat back in front of us as we talked and laughed about anything and everything.

The bus lurches forward before taking a sharp turn to the right almost slinging us out of our seat.

"Holy shit, this is the bus ride from hell!" Bella grabs onto my forearm to right herself.

"I think we're stopping." I sit up and look out the front window. "Yeah, we're at the food court entrance at the mall."

Bella slowly closes her eyes and takes a deep breath before sitting up and looking for herself.

Her smile is gone and the space around us suddenly seems stuffy and wrong.

"What are you going to eat?" I ask and dismiss the flutter in the depths of my stomach as hunger and not worry.

She shakes her head. "I don't think I want much." She points toward the gas station on the other side of the road. "I'm just going to go buy a bag of chips or a candy bar."

Something's up. I don't like it.

She won't look at me.

"Are you sure?" I try to coax whatever it is out of her.

She nods and stands and slides by me as she talks, "I'm positive, I'll meet you back here, all right?"

Before I have a chance to respond she's already out the door and crossing the parking lot.

Alone.

**... *****lg***** …**

I stand in line at Filet O'Chicken trying to figure out what in the hell just happened out there on bus.

It doesn't take long for me to figure it out. As soon as the oversize man in front of me steps up the counter to order, Bella's source of discomfort all but slaps me right in the face.

Leah.

She works here at the food court. Bella didn't want to be seen with me. More importantly, Bella didn't want _Leah _to see _her _with _me_. Us together. Like it's so wrong.

I'm not sure if I'm more hurt or pissed off. This is total bullshit. My hands suddenly ache from the fists I can't seem to stop flexing.

This small betrayal gnaws at my insides like a tiny worm burrowing into the dirt, relentless and determined.

"Hey Bailey, I'm suddenly feeling sick to my stomach, can I take a break?" Leah shouts behind her as I approach the counter. I know she hates me, I get it. I'm not very found of her either. Our history is sort of ...ugly.

"Sorry Leah, give me about five minutes and then I can relieve you." Her coworker responds.

Leah shakes her head. "The source of my sickness should be gone by then but thanks anyway. What do you want, Cullen?"

"Why yes, I am having a wonderful day! Thank you for asking. I'll take a number one, no pickles. With a Dr. Pepper. Please." My sarcasm leaks through my clenched teeth.

"For here or to go?" She doesn't even make eye contact.

Like I care. "To go."

"Thank goodness." She mumbles as she takes the debit card from my hand and swipes it. "What are you doing on this side of town during the day anyway? I thought you spent your days of summer break at Camp IAMADouche?"

Frankly, I'm not in the mood for her smart mouth today. "Just get my order quickly and maybe I won't report your rude-ass attitude to your manager."

I glance up over her shoulder and wink at Heather, her manager. "Hey Heather. You sure are lookin' all tan and slim."

Heather walks up and hands me my bag of food. "Thank you Edward, I haven't seen you around much. Have you been coming to any parties lately?"

I pick up my drink, "No, I've been busy, but I may have to find time if you're going to be there." I dart over and glare at Leah. "I have to go, goodbye Ladies."

"Do that Edward, I'll be lookin' out for ya'." Heather adds as I walk toward the exit.

I have no intention on attending any of the college parties where Heather will be. Those all-nighters kick my ass.

I have other things to do.

**... *****lg***** …**

Bella is already seated on the bus when I return. She's staring out the window. An unopened bottle of Snapple and a pack of crackers fill her lap.

She doesn't even know I'm back until I plop down in our seat and the tiny bubble of air trapped in the cushion makes her side of the seat rise.

She quickly looks at the bag I'm holding and while her face doesn't show it, I see the alarm in her eyes. She knows I know.

I'm not sure how to approach this situation. So for a minute or two, I don't say anything. The bus driver said we would be here almost an hour to eat, I still have plenty of time.

But then the quiet starts to get to me and not saying something becomes impossible. "Is that why you didn't want anything to eat from in there?" I try to keep the tone of my voice an even keel.

She doesn't answer and the silence slowly begins to fuel my anger.

"Is it? Because your friend Leah works in there? Because that's what I'm thinking. No, no, we wouldn't want to give away your dirty little secret, would we? Hell no! There's no way you could be civil to Edward Cullen, right? You shouldn't even share his air." I nod my head wanting her to say something. Say anything. "That's bullshit, Bella. That's not how you treat a friend."

She swivels around in the bench seat to face me, her eyes are wide. There's a fire there now, one I haven't seen in a few days.

"Don't you dare throw that up in my face. We've had this talk, Edward. You know how it is. I'm doing the right thing here. I'm keeping it safe and simple for the both of us." She points at me. Her face is flush and I can tell she's upset.

"So I should thank you then? For keeping me safe? For simplifying my life by not being my friend in public?" Whatever, I don't think so. "I—"

She butts in. "Hell yes you should! I'm being the responsible, level-headed one here Edward! I'm the one keeping my fucking feet on the ground remembering what a shithole this place is and how unforgiving and mean everyone is. It doesn't matter what we think or what we feel. After this week, us being friends is not the smart thing to do. Nothing would be right about that, it would be social suicide and I don't want that for either of us. So yes, I am doing the right thing, I am keeping it simple whether you think it's right or not."

I notice her eyes are getting glassy and wet and her cheeks have passed pink, they are bright red. My heart starts to beat faster thinking that she might be about to cry because of what I've said. There's an uneasiness in me that takes over and squeezes at my gut. All I want to do it fix it for her. I don't want her to cry, ever. Especially because of me, because of us.

But I'm also pissed. She still thinks we can't be friends in the real world. "Just so you know, I never asked for simplicity, all I wanted was truth and honesty from you and I'm not so sure you're giving me that."

She closes her eyes and faces forward. She reaches up and slowly wipes the tears off her cheeks that have spilled from her lids before relaxing back in the seat and ignoring me.

We don't speak the rest of the trip.

**... *****lg***** …**

I pull up in front of her house.

We haven't talked since lunch.

I hate it.

"Bella, I'm sorry. I shouldn't —"

She opens her door, not listening to me. "It's okay Edward. I'm not mad at you. You don't have to apologize. It is what it is and the sooner we acknowledge that, the better off we'll be."

I can't remember the last time I felt this defeated. It was probably when I was ten and my mother completely forgot my birthday.

"Tomorrow is Friday, can I still pick you up? It's the last day?" I try to smile as I ask.

She gets out of the car but spins toward me before bending down and peeking in the open door, "Of course, I wouldn't have it any other way. I'll see you bright and early."

I nod in agreement.

I want to sit in her drive and wait to see if she comes back out so we can talk about this.

She doesn't.

I hesitantly drive off wondering how to fix this.

Then it dawns on me, I'll have to prove it to her. I'll have to show her that we can still be friends among our other friends.

I grab my phone & send her a text. _What __r __u __doing__ 2__nite__? -__E __Culln_

_**What**__**? **__**How **__**did **__**u **__**get **__**my**__** #? -**__**Bella**_

Oops, I forgot to tell her about that.

_I __might __have __added __it __earlier __when __u __was __in __bathroom__ -__E __Culln_

_**Stalker**__**! **__**I**__**'**__**m **__**going **__**swimming **__**at **__**the **__**hole**__**. :) **__**Why**__**? -**__**Bella**_

_Just __curious__. __C __U __in __the __a__.__m__. __Have __fun__. Be safe -__E __Culln_

_**Bye **__**Edward**__** -**__**Bella**_

This works out perfectly. Time to put the plan in action. I dial a second number.

"Hey scum bucket, how about you get the gang together and we hit the hole for a little cliff diving tonight? There's a full moon?" I open my closet and search for my swimming trunks.

"Why Cullen, that sounds like the best plan you've had in months. You want me to pick you up?" Emmett asks.

"Nah, I'll meet you all there." I hang up on him and take a deep breath.

This just has to work.

I grab a towel and my keys, locking the door behind me as I leave.

She'll see, she's been keeping this simple and safe for nothing. I just know it.

* * *

><p><em>I know how long it's been. I apologize, but now I have new goals, one of which is to finish this fic, and it starts with one chapter at a time.<em>


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